The Hardest Part
by DreamingOfParadise
Summary: Sookie is very feisty, something that both attracts and repels the residents of Bon Temps. But how will Eric Northman react when she stumbles into his bar, having recently lost her job? All human/OOC
1. Chapter One

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter One_

Sookie's POV

I've got a reputation for being a bit of a bitch.

Well, strictly speaking, _I_ wouldn't define myself as that. That's a word I'd reserve either for a dog, or for those types of people who make an obvious point of talking badly about you to your face; I've encountered plenty of those in my time and they don't even bother disguising the fact that they're looking straight down their pointy noses at me.

Those two definitions are very similar, anyhow.

I see myself as more... honest. Yeah, that's me. My Gran, God rest her soul, always believed in telling the truth and that's what I do. Perhaps sometimes my brutal honesty hurts, but surely it's better to be stung by reality than satisfied by fantasy?

Yet some of the residents here in Bon Temps obviously don't agree with my philosophy; I've received more dirty looks than I can even recall and my boss, Sam Merlotte, has even had to warn me in the past to keep my comments to myself. Working as a waitress in his bar, he's clearly worried about losing customers, because they go there to escape from their troubles, not to receive abuse from a blonde barmaid who has a bit of a mouth on her. I like to think that he's giving me advice as a friend, not just as an employee, as we've got along brilliantly ever since he hired me so long ago. In fact, sometimes it seems as though we've gotten along a little _too_ well, and things nearly escalated beyond our control.

I mean, he's a very handsome man; sometimes when he storms out of his office with his face flushed and his hair ruffled like a messy golden halo, I can't help admiring him. Plus, he also has a kind heart and wants the best for almost everyone.

But that'd make things even more complicated.

So now, whenever I go into work and start serving, I aim to keep my thoughts held in where they belong. It takes a lot of effort and a heck of a lot of lip-biting, but I've just about managed.

Until today.

I was working the night shift at Merlotte's, and as soon as I stepped through the door and into the office to store away my things, I somehow knew it was gonna be a rough night. It was a little rowdier than usual, with all kinds of people demanding to be catered to; I was rushed off my feet with orders coming from every direction.

As well as this, a group of young boys had helpfully decided to turn the jukebox in the corner up to its loudest volume, and I often had to ask the customers to repeat their orders. That earned me plenty of looks of exasperation and mutterings about me being slightly dim.

In my flushed state, I almost made a comment about how large Portia Bellefleur was looking when she demanded where her extra large portion of fries were.

The night passed by in some crazy blur; I managed my best smile that I'd had so much practice at faking, I served all kinds of unhealthy food that the customers were happy enough to gorge on, I made polite conversation whenever it was possible.

I fell into the false hope that perhaps it was getting slowly better when the pace decreased a little at around eleven thirty. I glanced around my area and everybody seemed happy enough; nobody was screaming at me for anything else, at least. Bearing this in mind, I headed towards the bar to Arlene, my flame-haired colleague, who gave me a look of exhaustion.

"Believe me, Sookie, I sure will be glad to get outta here tonight, it's been crazy!"

I nodded in agreement; my bed had never felt more appealing.

"Hey, are you alright?" Her oddly piercing eyes scanned my face; had my guard slipped? "You're looking a bit more stressed than usual."

"Cheers, Arlene," I muttered bitterly. "That's good to know." She had the habit of saying whatever came out of her mouth without warning; it was like she didn't have a barrier between her brain and her mouth like most people do. Saying that perhaps would be a little hypocritical of me, but I can at least control myself on occasions.

She also had the habit of being very personal and inquisitive, to put it mildly. She seemed to think that she deserved to know everybody's business. _Everybody's_.

That's why she's best in small doses.

"Oh Sookie, you know I didn't mean it like that!" _Yes you did. _"I'm just concerned for you!" _No you're not, you just want something to talk about with the others which will make you seem interesting. _

I didn't feel like replying. It would have only sounded false, so I just pretended to wipe away at the counter, even though it was practically shining already.

She surprised me then, though, by leaning in close. It was closer than I felt comfortable with, but the words that she whispered into my ear made me forget all that.

"Is it because of Jason?"

The cloth in my hand leaked all kinds of liquids onto the surface as I squeezed it tightly in shock.

Around me, the subject of my brother had become a kind of taboo. After all the months, I'd managed to push it to the back of my mind, even though in the most darkest moments, usually during the middle of the night, it would crawl back out to haunt me.

Most people in Bon Temps were considerate; they knew how much it hurt me and avoided the topic.

But Arlene had willingly brought it up as though it were something as normal as the weather.

"Arlene. You thoughtless, _cruel_..." I trailed off, aware that I was gathering a few stares.

Then I thought, screw it. All thoughts of being rational left me, and I scowled at her with rage burning from my eyes. "Do you even _think_ before everything comes pouring out of your mouth? Or are you just so goddamn _thick_ that you can't see that your words can sometimes hurt people? You do it so often I sometimes wonder how people can even tolerate you!"

Her heavily made-up eyes widened in surprise. Good. "Sookie, I-"

"Don't you try and excuse yourself! You know how much pain thinking of my brother causes me! Dammit, I can't even bear to say his name anymore and you just carelessly bring it up!"

"Oh, so it's _my_ fault that he's behind bars, is it?"

That was the moment when I lost all control, and my hand connected with her cheek.

It all went crazy after that, and the only thing that stuck in my mind and regsitered with me was the look on Sam's face as he witnessed my action. His eyes said it all; the bitter disappointment, the regret, the sadness.

He knew what he had to do, and so did I.

"Sookie, get here _now_."

His voice commanded authority, and it somehow sounded both flat and ominous at the same time. He didn't bother saying please.

Without looking at Arlene or the group of people who'd tried to separate us, I strode over to his office and he followed, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

There was a brief pause.

"Sam-"

"No, Sookie, just don't!" His normally friendly eyes blazed as he cut me off. "You can't act like that! Behaving that way in front of customers is just... it's unacceptable!"

"Please, I-"

"Sookie, I... I've got no choice. You know that."

Everything seemed to suddenly turn a little blurry. I felt dizzy as the force of his words hit home.

I was going to lose my job.

_This can't be happening..._

"Please Sam, I'm _so_ sorry!" My words were full of sincerity.

"You probably are, but right now you're a liability." His hands ran through his tangled hair. "Maybe in a few weeks when you're more stable, maybe then you can have your job back. But, in the past, you've just been too... too vocal about things. You need to control yourself."

"But I'm a good barmaid!" I protested.

"You are. And you'll be even better after a break. Trust me, it's for eveybody's benefit, including yourself. A lot has happened which you've had to deal with."

"I've been perfectly fine, thank you," I said, knowing it was a lie.

"You're not fooling me, Sookie." He knew me too well.

"But the money, Sam-" That sounded more pathetic and weak than I'd intended, but I managed to hold back any tears. Just about.

"I'll pay you for the work you've done up until tonight, but apart from that I can't help you."

He was supposed to be my friend.

Maybe I'd been deluded all the time. Perhaps he was just my employer after all.

There was no use arguing any further. This was my punishment and, as much as it tore me apart, I had to accept it. I'd done wrong.

As had my brother.

I left the office without another look from him.

The walk through the bar and outside was painful. There were whispers, irritating hissing sounds, but I kept my eyes on the floor at my trainers, and it occured to me that I'd probably have to return my uniform at some point.

Doing that tonight would have just been too agonising. Too final. It sounded silly, but that's how I felt.

I got to my car and didn't even think. I drove and drove, trying not to sob.

* * *

><p>Eventually, after an amount of time I couldn't even begin to calculate, I had to stop the car. My tears were blurring my vision, and that was just dangerous.<p>

I took the next right and stopped off at a random bar called Northman's. That was like another stab to the chest, but I tried to ignore it. When I cut off the engine, it was eerily silent apart from a few distant cheers, and I sat with my head on the wheel for a good five minutes, feeling down. Why were they entitled to happiness and not good people like me?

I tried not to think, but my head was a tangled mess.

When it finally became overwhelming, I sat upright and dabbed at my stained eyes in the mirror. Following that, I wiped my nose with a tissue from my pocket (thank goodness I had one) and then headed outside towards the bar.

Tonight was one of those rare nights when I just needed to forget everything. The world seemed horrible right then, and I was just going to indulge. I'd probably regret it, but that didn't matter at that moment.

Inside, it was incredibly hot and busy. _Not friendly like Merlotte's, _was my first thought. I pushed that aside with all my power and made my way through the dancing crowd. The music throbbed and pulsed even louder than it did in Merlotte's, and again I felt a twinge of regret at feeling irritated by it.

When I reached the bar, I slumped down onto the nearest stool and threw my bag on the counter with a little more force than was strictly necessary. I received a few curious glances from those around me, but they quickly returned their focus to their business, whether it was trying to get a woman into bed or longing to drink themselves out of their sorrow.

I supposed I kind of fitted into the latter category. How depressing.

With that thought weighing on my mind, I ordered a rum and Coke without even glancing up at the bartender. Flashes of what had happened just earlier in Merlotte's kept flickering through my mind in some horrible kind of slideshow; the one thing that repeatedly stuck out, though, was Sam's face of bitter disappointment. It hurt like a knife being twisted in my chest and I knew it would haunt me.

"If it's not too much to ask, it would be nice for you to acknowledge my existence, or at the very _least_ pay for your beverage."

A low and surprisingly rich voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I glanced up – way up – to the man behind the bar who was speaking to me.

He was just... he...

Oh my.

It took a lot of effort to force some words out after seeing him. It was childish and pathetic of me to react in such a way, and it very rarely happened, but I found comfort by the fact that everybody else here probably acted the same way around him.

His eyes were the first thing that stood out; they were bright and receptive, but there was also a hint of sadness there. They were bright blue, like a sky on the sunniest day, and had a way of drawing me in, as though I were his prey.

I wish.

His skin was creamy under the fluorescent bar lights and there was the lightest trace of stubble across his jawline. His hair was blond, slightly darker than mine, and it was combed back; perhaps he'd been running his long fingers which gripped my glass through it.

Oooh.

He was wearing black, tightly fitted clothes, and a leather jacket over the top which, strangely, protected his neck. I also saw a trace of a dark tattoo somewhere on his chest, but he suddenly moved and the fabric covered it.

All this analysis happened within a few seconds and I reminded myself to speak.

Oh boy, I had most _definitely_ acknowledged his existence.

I raised my eyebrows suddenly, remembering what else he'd said. "And how much will the said beverage be?"

His face didn't even flicker as he replied. "$2.95."

"Bit steep," I muttered, handing him the money regardless. With the smallest of movements, he nodded his head in what I assumed was thanks, and began to serve those around us.

It was hard not to stare, but the truth was that I had nobody else in there with me. Everybody was occupied with those around them, and I suddenly felt even more lonely. Because of my nature, there were very few people out there who understood me; there was Sam... and Tara, my only friend. The single reason why we'd bonded so well was because we were alike; we're both blunt and in need of somebody.

That was enough to make my throat feel suddenly raw.

Maybe I'd have to cross Sam off that very short list now.

Without hesitation, I downed a large part of my drink. It helped a little, and the kick of the alcohol warmed me up. Some part of my subconscious was reminding me to be careful; I didn't fancy turning into one of those crazy alcoholics that regularly hung around Merlotte's. (Again, a pang of pain.) It was a sore sight whenever somebody like that was in the room; I could never decide whether I felt pitiful or disgusted.

That brief pondering kept me occupied for all of a minute. Then, I began to look around and caught the eyes of Sexy Barman.

_Wait, I did _not_ just mentally call him that..._

Checking myself, I searched desperately for something to make me look less alone; I didn't want to look so sad in front of him.

I came up with nothing.

_Fuck, this was a bad idea._

"Do you work in Merlotte's?"

The mention of the familiar name caught my attention and I glanced up to see Sexy Barman looking straight at me expectantly. His face was still blank, but his eyes strayed to my chest.

Normally, that kind of behaviour would have been worth a slap, but I quickly gathered that he was referring to the Merlotte's badge that was on my T Shirt. In my rage and shock, I hadn't bothered changing.

It saddened me that the real answer to his question was a negative.

But I couldn't say that.

"No, I'm just wearing the uniform for _fun_."

That hadn't meant to come out quite so sarcastically, but he remained unphased; the only change in his expression was the slight narrowing of his eyes. "I have a question." He spoke slowly, emphasising each syllable with alarming appeal. "What's it like working with such a jerk?"

My jaw clenched in anger and any attraction flew straight out of the window. A complete stranger speaking about Sam in such a way, despite what had just happened, was enough to make me want to throw my drink all over his goddamn face, even though it'd be a waste. Instead, I took a deep breath and looked at him levelly. "I don't know. Maybe I could ask somebody who works here with _you_."

The corners of his lips may have tugged up briefly, I wasn't too sure, but he quickly turned away and disappeared.

What a fucking... argh, there weren't even _words._ Sam was the most genuine, wonderful man I knew, and hearing somebody calling him a jerk like that was-

I stopped in my thoughts. He must have done _something_ to make the Asshole Barman speak bad of him...

All sorts of possibilities began picking away at my state of mind. I knew Sam had the tendency to get a bit irritable sometimes; today was a perfect example, but perhaps that was understandable.

But I just couldn't stop wondering.

For crying out _loud_. I'd wanted to forget...

Cursing the Asshole Barman once more and downing the rest of my drink, I scooted out of there as quickly as was possible. I'd only consumed a minimal amount of alcohol, so I headed straight for my car and sat down at the wheel for two minutes straight, just thinking.

How had this rattled me so much?

A voice in my head taunted me with the answer. _Because you can't bear to think that one of the very few people you trust would do anything bad._

With a stupid angry outburst aimed at the steering wheel, I decided to finally start the engine and head home. My empty home.

Two men dominated my thoughts the entire time.


	2. Chapter Two

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Two_

Sookie's POV

I didn't think it was possible for my day to get any worse after all that.

Yet, it cruelly did.

It was as though some powerful person somewhere was taking control of my life, making all kinds of horrible things happen to me in one day; perhaps I was somebody's puppet to experiment with.

Well, I just wanted to cut the strings and go to sleep.

But my car just_ had_ to break down on the way home.

When it started juddering to a halt, wheezing like somebody with bad asthma, I couldn't help just crying. I was able to pull it over to the side of the road as safely as I could and I put my hazard warning lights on, but after that I slumped onto the wheel and let everything overcome me.

_This thing was supposed to be reliable! Stupid heap of junk! Damn, damn, damn!_

Again I was alone, in a barely lit part of the town with tall trees surrounding the quiet road. It was claustrophobic. The branches seemed to reach out like claws and I kept my eyes shut and my head down, imagining that I was somewhere else.

In Merlotte's, with my job still intact.

Sam would walk in smiling at me warmly, and I'd serve some drinks to a group of women who would tip me generously. Everything would go smoothly.

I smiled to myself briefly, but couldn't completely convince myself that I was there. I knew all too well what had happened, and that was furiously playing through my head.

If it wasn't for Arlene being so insensitive, I'd be perfectly content right now.

Then again, maybe I shouldn't have acted as I did.

My thoughts moved sluggishly in that repetitive circle before everything suddenly became hazier, and I slumped onto the wheel.

* * *

><p>There was a sudden loud noise out of the blue to my left and I jumped with a start, almost leaping out of my seat. Where was I? A pale face was staring at me disapprovingly through the window and I gasped in alarm; I remembered where I was, and it also occurred to me that nobody else was around there with me...<p>

Scenarios were flashing in front of my eyes; was I going to get attacked? Robbed? Everything seemed to have a horrible ending in which I'd end up getting hurt and my stomach felt sick.

I began running through the ways I'd learned to protect myself through self-defence and tried, in vain, to see if the engine would run once more.

Nothing.

With shaky breaths, I took a glance over to my left once more. It was very difficult to see outside, but the lights from the car which had stopped behind mine illuminated the man's features a little more. As recognition set in and I saw the familiar blue eyes, I frowned.

The Asshole Barman.

Oh _fantastic_. Just the person I wanted to see.

My hands were jittery, but I managed to roll down the window. (I needed the air, it wasn't for any other purpose, obviously.) He leant forwards, resting his arms on the thin edge of the car. _He's got some nerve, how dare he invade my space!_

Somehow, he managed to smell intoxicatingly of what I could only describe as male; a mixture of aftershave, sweat and alcohol.

"Are you following me?" I grimaced. He ignored that.

"Do you realise how dangerous it is to fall asleep beside the road like this?"

His voice reminded me of a teacher who used to chide me in kindergarten and I narrowed my eyes at him, vaguely thinking that I probably looked like a mess. "What business is it of yours?"

"None whatsoever," he admitted, backing away a little. "Do you want me to just leave you in here out in the dark?"

I didn't answer him.

"You're very stubborn. Tell me, what would you have done if I hadn't arrived here?"

My shoulders shrugged. "Slept in the car."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his eyebrows raise high up his forehead. Some of his neatly combed-back blond hair had fallen out of place, giving it a pleasantly ruffled look.

The exhaustion was clearly making me think that. My mind was probably delirious.

"That's a brilliant idea," he scoffed. "Your jerk of a boss probably wouldn't be too happy with that, though, when you turn up to work later today."

His words made my hands coil up. He knew exactly what buttons to press. "Sam is _not_ a jerk, and I don't _have_ a fucking job, so nobody will care what happens to me anyway."

I heard him inhale deeply and tried not to glance at his rising chest. "Oh, so that's how it is."

"Yes, _that's_ how it is."

There was a brief moment of silence and the only sound around us was the wind which continued to whip his hair around. He didn't react when it blew into his eyes and I felt his stare on me.

"Do you want me to take a look at your car or not?"

I wondered why he was taking his time to help me; surely he'd want to get home after a busy shift in that hectic place?

The last thing I wanted to do was say yes because it'd give him a chance to make me seem weak, but I nodded anyway, knowing it was only logical.

He met my eyes briefly before opening the hood and burying his face inside. It was quite a sight seeing parts of his rather large arms working and I had to concentrate on keeping my thoughts clean.

It was so pathetic; he was such a douchebag, I had no idea why I was reacting such a way.

"Ah," he said after a little while. His voice sounded even more rich and deep now that I could fully appreciate it in the silence. "I can see the problem."

His head reappeared and he was slightly covered in some dirt. _Oh goodness. _"Try the ignition now."

Reluctantly, I did so and, to my surprise and his pleasure, the engine started running once again, powerful as ever.

None of us said anything for a few seconds and I just had to swallow my pride. "Thank you."

The smallest of smiles appeared on his lips for a very short time, and the way it made his eyes twinkle had my chest turning oddly light. The area around his eyes crinkled too, making him seem so young and happy, but when it disappeared, he turned back into the Asshole Barman with a twinge of unhappiness in his expression.

It was hard to admit, but I wanted to see that smile again.

Those brief moments had made me soften a little towards him, so I added, "Really, thank you."

"It was nothing," he muttered, and everything hardened once more. He started to walk away but suddenly paused, as though he'd remembered something. "In case you're interested, which I highly doubt you are, there's a job vacancy available at my bar. If you could bear working for me, feel free to drop by during tomorrow afternoon."

My eyes widened as I tried to comprehend everything. "You _own_ that bar?"

He nodded expressionlessly. "I, Eric Northman, am indeed the owner of Northman's."

I certainly didn't expect his name to be Eric. "Oh," was all I could manage.

Could I bear working with him? Perhaps I needed to put personal preferences aside and think about what was most important; earning money and actually having a job. I couldn't face thinking of myself as unemployed.

"Well?" he prompted, clearly waiting for an answer.

"I'll think about it."

"You'll be there," he said confidently, with the hint of smugness in his voice. "What's your name?"

"Sookie Stackhouse."

"Unusual," he commented.

"Unique," I corrected.

Without another word or look in his direction, I headed off home, aware for the first time that it was 1.38am. Goodness.

He followed me most of the way back.

I didn't even feel alarmed.

* * *

><p>I woke at ten thirty the next morning and was unaware of what had happened before for a few blissful moments. That can be the most wonderful and painful experience at the same time, but in my experience, it was definitely the latter. As the realisation of all that had occured dawned on me, it felt as though a pile of bricks had been dropped onto my chest.<p>

I sat upright and stared at my ancient wardrobe for a long time, sifting through everything that was flying through my head. I lived in my Grandma's house which I'd inherited after she'd died from heart failure, and everything was a reminder of her and her sunny nature; the flowery wallpaper, the patterned curtains, the grand table equipped with a large mirror; this place was hers to escape whenever she needed escape, bless her.

Of course I'd never forget her anyway, but I loved waking up to the picture of us together on my bedside drawer. It had been taken on my 13th birthday and we were both wearing colourful hats. The smiles were genuine and our troubles were few.

We'd been incredibly close because she'd looked after me when my parents were killed in a flash flood. It had happened when I was incredibly young and I couldn't remember much of them, but Gran had supplied me with plenty of information to remember them by.

It had been just under two years since she'd been gone, and I'd thought about her everyday without fail.

Somebody else in my family also occupied my thoughts daily, but his presence brought pain and blackness rather than joy.

Pulling myself out of bed, I took a long, hot shower and that seemed to ease some of my tension; I paid extra attention to scrubbing myself completely clean, hoping to wash away what had happened yesterday. It sounds stupid, but I genuinely believed it might work. It certainly made me feel a little better.

That is until I began drying myself, when I thought of Eric Northman and the job on offer.

A shiver crept over my body all of a sudden.

There'd always been a bit of a chill whenever I get out of the shower, but I somehow didn't think it was down to just that.

After sorting out my hair and putting on a little makeup just to raise my spirits a bit more, I sat downstairs and had a quick a coffee. Outside it was a little brighter then usual and the air certainly seemed warmer, so I thought to myself that things might be getting a bit more positive.

There was a sudden knock at my front door which echoed through the empty house. It seemed awfully ominous.

Placing down my cup, I made my way towards the sound and peeked through the hole. My heart plummeted and everything came rushing back.

It was Sam. Sam, my former boss.

Knowing I had to, I opened the door a fraction and plastered on my smile which I'd had so much practice at perfecting. There was no use being bitter towards him; it _was_ my fault after all. At least I looked decent, too; he wouldn't think that I was wallowing in self pity.

Which I _might_ have done for a while, but that's beside the point.

"Hi," he said quietly. There was a small brown envelope in his left hand. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," I replied brightly, stepping aside. Once he was in the house, he looked around curiously.

"You've kept this place really nice, Sookie. Your Grandma would have been proud."

"Thank you, Sam." I didn't know if he was being so pleasant because he felt he had to, but in my experience he was usually genuine with his words. "Look, I'm really sorry for what happened yesterday. I've said it before, but I just want to re-iterate." I was on a babble, and he knew not to interrupt. Usually once I got going, I really did suffer with a bad case of word vomiting. "I've done wrong, and I'm accepting my punishment. I can only hope your opinion of me hasn't gone down because of it."

He smiled for a moment. "I believe you, Sookie. I'm glad that you think it's for the best." Hopefully his horrifying disappointment and anger from last night had worn off; I'd remember that look forever. He handed me the little envelope. "Here's everything that you've earned up until now." Our hands briefly touched during our exchange and I looked down to my bare feet. "Maybe in the future we'll be working together once more. I'm sorry if I was a little harsh."

"I hope so." The thought of Northman's fluttered through my mind. "Are we still friends?"

"Of course, Sookie," he said, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding. "I hope you can still come in to Merlotte's when you get the time." The name still made me cringe and he noticed. He knew me so well. "Maybe when Arlene isn't working, though. She can be a little thoughtless at times."

I nodded. "Understatement."

"I just hope you can use your time off wisely," he added, looking me straight in the eyes. "Maybe... get some help."

I looked back at him carefully. "What kind of help?"

"Well, perhaps not_ help_ exactly; just maybe, uh, try to tone down your anger issues."

"I don't have anger issues." But even as I said that, I realised that maybe I did see red a few times. That wasn't my fault, though; it was the stupid planks who I often had to encounter.

"I'll bear it in mind," I finally said, nodding at him. "And I've already began searching for new work."

He looked shocked for a moment, but soon smiled. "That's brilliant. Good luck with that." After a pause, he added, "Please know that I've always wanted the best for you. You can still come in and talk to me whenever you need to. I'll always be there."

That made my throat feel oddly tight and I felt a prickle at the edges of my eyes. Trying to shake it off, I nodded. "Thank you."

As if he could sense that I was beginning to get upset, he headed towards the door. "I'd better be off now, give you some time alone." That was the last thing I wanted, but he obviously had work to do. "See you sometime soon."

"Will do." Before I knew it, his car was backing out of the drive and back to Merlotte's.

Was he making a valid point? Did I actually need help?

_No, of course not. That's ridiculous... people who need real anger management go around hitting people repeatedly. Arlene was an exception. And besides, my anger is only released through verbal comments. They're not really hurting anybody..._

_At least I think they're not._

Nodding to myself, I had a sudden thought. What I actually _did_ need to do was get ready for the job interview I had in a few hours.

This was going to be interesting.


	3. Chapter Three

**The Hardest Part**

Chapter Three

_Sookie's POV_

I smoothed down my outfit as I stared at the reflection in the mirror, deep in thought.

It had taken a long time to decide what to wear; I didn't want to give the wrong impression, so I eventually managed to put together a black pencil skirt that was just below my knees, along with a short-sleeved white blouse. My hair was loose and curled around my shoulders. I thought that it conveyed I was the sort of person who could and should be taken seriously but, as I grabbed my keys and headed towards the door, I almost changed my mind. Was it too formal? The uniform for Merlotte's had just been shorts and a T Shirt, after all...

When I'd gone to Northman's yesterday, I hadn't taken much notice of what everybody else apart from the owner himself had been wearing. Admittedly, it had been hard to take my eyes off him. He could wear whatever he wanted too, anyway, and...

_No, I'm overthinking. Just get in the car, or you'll be late, and that most _definitely_ won't be good._

With a flutter of nervous excitement, I turned the key in the ignition and the engine started perfectly. Naturally, I thought back to Eric Northman with his head in the hood of my car, and I shook myself.

I needed to be professional.

I listened to the radio the whole way, singing terribly alone with the power ballads in order to keep my mind off things that would be nothing but harmful.

* * *

><p>I arrived at Northman's roughly fifteen minutes later and parked my car in one of the many available spaces. It didn't seem very busy, and when I tentatively made my way inside, my suspicions were confirmed; the only person there was the owner himself, Eric Northman, who was sat in a chair with his long legs spread before him.<p>

He looked like some kind of King.

His gaze travelled over to meet mine as I knocked on the door, and he stood up to greet me. _I'm never gonna grow accustomed to how tall he is..._

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, much to my surprise. "Please, take a seat."

I did so and clasped my hands in my lap. To my dismay, they were uncomfortably sweaty, but I handed over the documents I thought that he would need to see anyway. They mostly included my qualifications, which were above average, and any experience I'd had in the past. His eyes scanned them incredibly quickly and his expression betrayed nothing of what he thought. Without a word, he handed them back and I waited for him to speak.

"Why do you think you'll be suitable for the job, Miss Stackhouse?" He looked at me levelly and I crossed my legs, thinking about my response. _Try not to be too sarcastic, Sookie, this is important... don't mess this up._

"I've had a considerable amount of experience working behind a bar and I feel that I can communicate well with customers."

Okay, maybe that was a _little_ white lie, and his lips even twitched for a very brief moment, but he silently nodded.

"As well as that, I'm punctual, reliable, good with money and can be incredible efficient."

"Would you mind telling me exactly why you left your previous job?" he asked, leaning forwards closer to me. I was very, very near to making a snappy comment about it being none of his business but realised that I had to treat the situation as though it were any other job interview; in fact, I was quite pleased with the self restraint and mimicked his actions so that there was very little space between us.

"There was a small disagreement with my boss, but I can assure you that it won't happen again."

"How can I be sure?"

"Hire me and you'll find out."

He continued to stare at me, his expression not giving anything away once again. I wondered how he could do that; I've always been told that my eyes give away what I'm feeling, but his blue ones just seemed focused. There was no sign of anything else.

Was I _really_ that boring to him?

"I'm going to have to observe you working," he said suddenly and I nodded. This would be a breeze. "If you'd follow me behind the bar..."

He asked me to serve a few specific beverages, as well as calculating how much they would cost despite the fact that there was a cash register, and everything went swimmingly. It took me a brief moment to see where everything was, but my photographic memory came in handy and I was able to locate everything pretty easily. I'm not the most intelligent person you'll ever meet - far from it - but working behind a bar is one of the few things that seems to come naturally to me.

I wasn't afraid to make that known, either.

By the end of the task, he just stood there staring into space. I didn't want to blow it and ask if I was being a nuisance in his busy schedule, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

Eventually, he spoke. "If you would be so kind to give me a way of contacting you, preferrably your address too, then I'll let you know within a few days if you have succeeded."

_He wants my number? And my address?_

My common sense screamed at me. _Of course he does, but for professional reasons... duh!_

"Sure," I murmured, quickly scribbling it down on some paper with a pen that he handed me. I could strangely feel him looking at me as I did so, and I wondered if it was always this intense around him. If I did succeed, as he ominously put it, would I be able to handle the tension? Would I always be able to restrain my remarks?

I feared the answer to those questions might be a big fat no.

"Thank you, Miss Stackhouse," he said when I'd finished. Again, no trace of a smile. "It's been a pleasure."

_Goodness. _

I left the room, unable to say anything else. It seemed to me as though the interview had been very brief - maybe I'd simply misjudged the time, but I found myself constantly evaluating my performance as I made my way back to the parking lot.

Nothing had gone _disastrously_ wrong... maybe I was in with a chance.

A small smile crept onto my face as I sat inside my car. I just hoped I hadn't cursed anything by thinking so positively.

* * *

><p>The trip back home was, thankfully, uneventful. My car didn't break down, there was no sign of Eric Northman following me... it all went smoothly.<p>

Well, the journey did.

The gravel crunched underneath the car wheels as I parked near to the house and, as I glanced up, I knew that there was something wrong. It was odd, but I noticed almost straight away that my flowers, which I'd spent so much time looking after, had been messed with. There was soil across the steps leading up to the front door, and the heads of most of the tulips were scattered around thoughtlessly.

I felt anger and fear.

Maybe it had just been a cat...?

With that thought in mind, I made my way to the front door. It was only after it had taken me several attempts to open it that I realised my hands were shaking.

I also gathered that my key wasn't working because the door was already open.

_Oh God._

I froze on the spot and didn't want to move.

_Stop being stupid... you can't stand here all day. Pull yourself together._

That was pretty hard to do when I eventually managed to look inside.

Everything was a mess. My Grandma's beautiful house had been invaded and...

And it broke my heart.

Feeling numb, I trudged through the objects that had been carelessly thrown around. Paper - mostly my personal documents - littered the floor, the sofa's seats had been removed as somebody had rummaged around, my pillows were torn open, photo frames were tossed on the ground.

And that was just the lounge.

The drawers in the kitchen were all out of place, their contents flung everywhere. Forks and other cutlery lay on the floor, and, stupidly, I wondered why somebody would do such a thing; did they not want me to eat?

Grabbing a knife for self-defence, I checked the rest of the bottom floor and was met by more and more pain.

I could barely gather the courage to make my way upstairs, but I had to.

The story was much the same.

My bedroom - the one place where I was usually able to seek solace - was no exception. The first thing I did, though, was place the photo of my Grandma and myself back onto the table. It was on the floor, face down, and that made a bubble of anger erupt in my chest.

So much so, that I threw a lampshade across the room without thinking. It smashed against the wall with a deafening crack and I chewed on my lip; it'd be weak to cry. I couldn't.

I needed to call the police.

After I was comfortable that whoever had did this was gone (I went around the house several times, jumping at every creak and brandishing my weapon like a lunatic) I managed to make the phonecall. I can't even remember what I said, it's all turned into a blur, but as I waited for them to arrive, I just sat on the floor.

Who would _do_ this?

It didn't look as though they'd stolen anything valuable; my purse had been with me, my television was still in place along with everything else that had cost a chunk of my hard-earned money to buy.

The person had clearly been looking for something specific.

And they must have known that I was going out, otherwise they wouldn't have done it when they did.

That made a shiver run down my spine.

I didn't really have anybody who I would class as an enemy, even though I'd made some acidic remarks in the past. Surely they wouldn't retaliate in such a way as this? Arlene didn't seem the type.

The knock on the door almost made me jump out of my skin.

Bud Dearborne and Andy Bellefleur stepped inside without me even answering. I managed to scramble to my feet and answered any questions they had to ask; it took a long time and was incredibly laborious. By the end I wanted nothing more than to sink into a warm bath.

But of course I couldn't do that.

"So are you sure nothing's been taken?"

"I think so," I replied to the Sheriff, running a hand through my hair. I told them my theory about somebody looking for something and they scribbled that down. While they interrogated me, somebody was going around taking fingerprints and samples. It all seemed very... serious.

Then again, a robbery is probably classified as exactly that.

It felt like a lifetime before they left, but I provided them with as much information as I possibly could and they said they'd keep in touch. When I closed the door and locked it behind them, I stared ahead for a few moments, wondering what to do.

Cleaning up seemed the only option.

I knew that I wanted and _needed_ to rest, but doing so when the house was like this - in such disorder - just seemed wrong.

And resting would probably lead to crying.

I started up in my bedroom; I gathered up the papers, carefully put all the broken shards of my possessions into a bag, swept the floor up, made a list of everything that had been broken and needed replacing. I made my bed, put all my make up back in place, managed to salvage the toy I'd always kept from my childhood.

It took a long time, but it looked almost normal an hour later. My clock told me it was just past 5pm and I groaned; this was going to take up most of my evening. Actually, it'd probably eat up into my morning too.

_I could really do with some help..._

My first thought was Sam, but he would be busy with the bar. Of course he would. I tried not to ponder too much on that, but it was uncontrollable. I wondered if he'd hired anybody else yet. Was I that replaceable?

Shaking myself, I then thought of Tara and considered if I should disturb her.

She'd probably be mad at me for not telling her about what had happened anyway, so I hurried downstairs towards the phone.

It rang just as I picked it up.

Once the shock had worn off and I regained a normal breathing pattern, I answered with caution. "Hello?"

"Am I speaking to Sookie Stackhouse?" The voice sounded familiar but my jumbled mind couldn't make the connection.

"You are."

"This is Eric Northman. I'm just calling to inform you that the job vacancy at Northman's is yours, if you're willing to accept the offer."

_Wow, that was quick. _"Oh. That's... um, that's great."

I sounded a little flat, and he noticed this. "You could sound a little more enthusiastic."

My eyes rolled, even though he couldn't see it. "I would, but it's been the last thing that I've been thinking about."

"You must have had a pretty eventful afternoon, then, in order to forget about me."

_Mr Egotistical._ "I have, as a matter of fact, and you're not really making it any better, _boss_."

There was a very brief pause. "Has something happened?"

"Yes."

He waited.

"My house has been broken into and I've spent the past few hours talking to the police and putting everything back in its right place, so please forgive me if I'm not doing cartwheels around the room at the thought of speaking to you once more."

I realised that might have been too much and his sigh confirmed that. Without a word, he hung up.

_Golly, thanks for the sympathy._

I waited a minute before I rang Tara and, surprisingly, when I told her that I needed to see her, she didn't ask any questions. She just told me that she'd be over in half an hour, and also hung up.

While I waited, I decided to see if there were any cups still intact to make some coffee. Luckily there was, and I began to fill up the kettle. There were some biscuits in the cupboard, too, so I placed them on a tray and dithered around, still trying not to break down at the mess.

The familiar routine brought a tiny shred of comfort.

Within a few moments of that, though, there was a loud knock at the door which made me nearly drop the spoon in my hand. I frowned; it hadn't been thirty minutes already, surely?

After making my way over, I opened the door and got the shock of my life when I saw who was there.

It was Eric Northman.

I stared up at him in surprise. "Um... hello?"

"Hello."

That was his reply; a single word. How very helpful. "Why are you here?" I prompted.

"After hearing about your unfortunate situation, I thought you might benefit from my help." He waited for my reaction, but added, "If you don't need me then I can easily leave."

"Oh, no, I do need you," I said, trying not to cringe at my choice of words. "What about your bar?"

"They can survive without me for a few hours," he said dismissively, heading inside past me. His eyes moved around to look at the mess and I swear I could see a bit of disgust in there. Disgust at the state of my house, or disgust that something like this had happened? "And besides," he said, taking me out of my daze, "you're an employee now, and I value that."

I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I offered him a coffee.

"That would be great. Looks like this will be thirsty work, anyway."

I tried not to let that sentence bother me too much.


	4. Chapter Four

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Four_

Sookie's POV

"Do you know if whoever did this took anything precious to you?"

I glanced up from the pile of smashed cups that I was trying to clear up and managed not to frown at my boss' unexpected question. We'd been silent for the majority of the time; now and then he would ask me where something should go, but he was surprisingly quiet and efficient at the job. I was incredibly grateful that he'd taken the time to do this; actually, it was the second time now that he'd helped me.

Obviously that was a coincidence.

"They didn't take anything," I answered, meeting his curious blue eyes. "We've kind-of deduced that they were looking for something rather than stealing something."

He nodded and carried on with what he was doing. When he focused on the task, I took a quick peek at him; his hair was messed up once again and it dangled in random blond strands around his face.

Then I realised that he was looking back at me and I returned swiftly to my own job.

That thought reminded me of something.

"When do you need me to start at Northman's?"

"As soon as it's possible for you," he answered, surprisingly putting me first once again. "We'll obviously have to put together some kind of timetable, but I'm sure you don't want to worry about that right now."

He had that spot on.

The silence crept back up on us after that, but it was oddly comfortable, not at all awkward. The lounge was almost clean and back to its normal state when he started to speak again. "This seems like a rather large house to be living in on your own."

Of course he had made a completely innocent comment, but he didn't know how much it hurt. I just nodded stiffly.

But, he persisted.

"Don't you..."

"Please, can we change the... ow, _shit_!"

A sharp pain trickled along the top of my right middle finger and a thin line of blood indicated that I'd cut myself with the glass when my mind had been too busy thinking about my being alone. I held it close to my eye and couldn't see anything remaining in there, but I quickly headed towards the kitchen to run it under some cold water.

Eric was close behind me.

"What did you..."

I held my middle finger up to him and, although he looked alarmed at first and thought I was being rude, he soon noticed my wound and frowned. "You need to put some pressure on it."

"I know, but I want to stop the stinging right now," I replied, somewhat snappily. I was aware that his arm was almost against my back, but focused on the sweet relief of the water.

The sink now had an unpleasant pinkish colour at the bottom and I reached for a nearby towel. After checking it was clean, I wrapped it around my hand, trying as hard as I could to stop any more blood loss.

"Listen, do you..."

"Eric, please just give me some space a minute. You're around me like a freaking vampire!"

"I'm just trying to_ help_ and you keep interrupting me every time I attempt to say something!" His eyes were bright when I turned to glare at him and the expression died away from my face. I was being ungrateful, exactly what my Gran would have hated.

"I'm sorry," I said, both to him and her. The words were sincere. "Really, I am. I just... I panicked a little. Sorry."

"That's understandable," he replied, a little more calmly. "How about you sit down and I'll make you some coffee?"

I stared at him with plenty of thoughts flying around in my busy head; he was being so... thoughtful.

"That sounds divine," I eventually managed, slumping down onto the seat.

While the kettle boiled and I grabbed some bandages from the first aid kit I'd found, he suddenly whipped around to face me. "Don't think I'll be this pleasant at work, though." It was as though he had read my mind and my eyes widened in response. "At Northman's I tend to sometimes be a bastard."

"I gathered that when I first went there," I muttered, making a very brief smile lighten his face. Was this man incapable of maintaining one for more than a millisecond? "And you're _really_ making me look forward to starting tomorrow."

"I just want to provide the best possible service and, if it involves being a bit of an asshole, I'm willing to gain a reputation."

I smirked to myself when he placed the coffee down in front of me; the comforting warmth wafted up to my face and I thanked him. It looked like we both had reputations, then.

I found my thoughts wandering to whatever had happened to him in the past – not to mention between him and my former boss, Sam – but eventually decided to just relax and watch him clear up around us. Even though he had the chance to rest and join me, he continued on, and I watched the muscles flexing in his back.

It was a pleasant sight.

But, at the same time, he baffled me. Talk about giving mixed signals.

Maybe I was guilty of doing the same.

* * *

><p>I almost jumped out of my skin once again when the bell rang a little while later. When I eventually calmed down (much to Eric's amusement) and managed to answer the door, I realised that it was Tara and my body gave a jolt; I'd completely forgotten that I'd invited her over.<p>

"Hi, come on in!"

She reached in for a hug and I relished in the simple comfort of having somebody hold me. While we clung tightly together, I wondered when we'd last seen each other; it completely escaped my mind and that was awful.

Her dark black hair brushed against my cheek as she pulled away and I met her eyes. "Something wrong, girl?"

"You could say that."

Her gaze travelled just past my left shoulder before she could reply and I figured that she'd seen Eric.

_Uh oh_.

"Sook, who's that?"

"My new boss," I answered quickly, maybe sounding a little suspicious. "I, uh, lost my job at Merlotte's, so now have one at his bar. It's called Northman's if you wanna pop by some time."

It was clear from her face that my response wasn't exactly what she'd expected. However, she soon noticed that a few parts of my house were still messy and she asked why.

"Somebody broke in, Tara," I sighed. "That's what I called you about."

"Shit,_ really_?"

"Really."

"Have you called the police?"

"Yeah, they're investigating. Nothing was stolen so we figured somebody was looking for something, which is a little unnerving." I was babbling, something I did when I became anxious. It felt like I'd been retelling the same story over and over, and, once the news would inevitably travel around Bon Temps, I had a feeling I'd be repeating it a lot more. I knew from experience that word moved like wild fire around there, especially with nosey people like Portia Bellefleur who felt the need to know _everything_ – just as Arlene did.

When Tara was staring at me expectantly, I realised she must have asked something when I'd zoned out. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted any extra help clearing up."

"Actually Eric and I have gotten most of it done," I said, awkwardly rubbing my neck.

"Eric and I?" she mimicked, giving me a funny look. "On first name terms, are you?"

I considered that. We weren't really, but I couldn't exactly call him Eric Northman all the time. None of my previous nicknames would work either; Sexy Barman, Asshole Barman, Mr Egotistical...

"Tara, I've only known him a day."

"Why's he at your house, then?"

Her question cut through me. He was a stranger, in all honesty. A stranger who I worked for.

I suddenly had a powerful longing to see Sam.

"I can see that I'm no longer needed here." Eric's – _no_, I mean Mr _Northman's_ voice penetrated our conversation and we both jumped guiltily. He gave Tara a charming smile (God knows why he couldn't manage that with me – it made him look absolutely wonderful) and then nodded towards me. "I'll see you tomorrow evening at eight, Miss Stackhouse. We'll discuss everything from there."

And, without another word, he was gone.

We both stared after him as his feet crunched over the gravel.

"He is mighty fine," Tara finally managed. "But I don't trust him."

"You've only just met him!"

"So have _you_, yet you're there defending him!" I loved Tara, but she was harsh with the truth.

"He's just my boss. He offered to help and I wasn't going to say no."

Was I convincing her or myself?

"Hmm. Do you want me to stick around for a bit? I think there are plenty of things we need to catch up on, Sook."

"I would offer you to stay over tonight, but maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea with the state of the place..."

She eyed me carefully. "Do you want me to stay over? If it'll make you feel more secure, then I will. It's not like my Mom would miss me. And besides, I'll fight off anybody who dares to come in here and do something like this again."

I couldn't help smiling; it brought back memories of when Tara used to stay over during our teenage years. Gran loved seeing her, and she'd bake her special pie just for the occasion. I could still remember the beautiful smell and how it used to saturate the whole house.

Knowing that these memories were bittersweet, I brought myself to look at her. "Would you mind? I don't want you in any danger."

"Sook, who was the one who could beat almost anybody at an arm wrestle at school?"

I smiled again, thinking of Tara making most of the boys in school wheeze under her power. "So if an intruder comes in, you're gonna challenge them with an arm wrestle?"

She nudged me in the ribs, grinning. "You know what I mean."

Impulsively, I hugged her again. "I'd love to have you over."

"That's settled, then. Let's sort the rest of this mess and then we can have a good catch up as soon as we're done."

Taking charge in somebody else's house - normally I'd hate that, but Tara did it in such a way that I could only laugh. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Tara and I were sat together on the sofa, watching some trashy television. It was all so corny that we just had to chuckle, and it didn't help that the lead in the programme looked like somebody in the town.<p>

"This is so stupid, honestly!" Tara giggled. "Nothing like this would happen in real life."

By the time it was 11, I realised that all the events of the day had caught up with me and I almost fell asleep onto her shoulder. We agreed it was time to go to bed and, after checking all the windows and doors were locked several times, we tentatively made our way up the stairs. Tara would be sleeping in the room next to me - it hadn't been used for a long time, but was tidy after we'd cleaned it up today - and that brought some comfort.

Once we'd finished doing what was needed in the bathroom, we bid each other goodnight and went into our own rooms.

I hadn't expected to fall to sleep easily once I had the time to think, and my mind was in overdrive. I thought of all the things Tara and I had talked about; me losing my job, her problems with her alcoholic mother, the date she'd had with an old schoolfriend called JB who she wasn't sure if she could trust.

And, naturally, I thought of what had happened to my house.

It angered me so much that somebody had trespassed and spoilt my beautiful home. What made it worse, was that it felt as though I'd let Gran down. It was irrational and stupid, but I honestly felt that I hadn't done enough to protect the place which had been in the Stackhouse family for years and years.

With that uneasy thought whirling in my head, I tried to shut my eyes and make it all go away.

* * *

><p>Eric was by my side.<p>

The dark room around us was silent and all I could hear was the steady sound of his breathing.

I should have felt scared, but the feeling of the fingers of his right hand trailing slowly up my arm was enough to distract me. He didn't even look at me as he continued to make my skin turn cold and eventually he gripped onto my shoulder, whirling me around to face him.

Though I felt dizzy, I kept my eyes up and staring into his. They were bright blue as always, but he looked excited for a change. There was emotion on his face.

His usually tidy hair was in a complete mess; blond strands stuck up everywhere in entirely random directions and I reached up a hand to run my fingers through it.

It was soft and smooth, and he closed his eyes at my movement. A small groan escaped his lips.

Then, he simply disappeared and my arm fell back to my side.

* * *

><p>I woke up and saw that my clock said 4.30am. My whole body felt hot and a light sweat had broken across my forehead.<p>

_What the hell was _that_?_

I propped myself upright and took a long drink of the water which I'd placed on my bedside table. After I'd finished that, I stared ahead into the darkness as my head repeated the images of what I'd just dreamt.

It was both disturbing and intriguing.

Of all the things that had happened yesterday, I'd dreamt about my boss Eric.

I should have dreamt about the house or Gran, not _him_.

I was so, _so_ confused.

Slowly, I lead myself back down and tried to get comfortable under the sheets, but it was too warm. The pillows felt too flat.

This was really bad. I desperately needed the sleep for tomorrow, as I had to start my new job which would go on late into the night.

I'd have to encounter Eric Northman and be able to act normally.

I guessed it was true what people around the town tended to say about me; I was, indeed, _very_ fucked up.


	5. Chapter Five

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Five_

Sookie's POV

I woke up very late that morning; Tara made me stir when she came into my room to check on me, and the squeaky door had made an exceptionally loud noise which pulled me from my dreams.

Dreams that were a tad disturbing, to say the least.

We had breakfast together at the kitchen table - I managed to quickly rustle up some bacon and eggs, much to her approval - and then Tara left, informing me that she had something important to do.

It sounded ominous, but I remained silent and thanked her for being such a good friend.

Then, once again, I was alone.

I hadn't been in my house by myself ever since whoever had broken in, so I felt a little on edge, but I had to continue as normal. It wouldn't be practical to spend the rest of my life worrying and looking over my shoulder; whoever was responsible would be caught eventually, justice would be done.

I hoped.

After drinking a _very_ strong cup of coffee and running a few errands, I sat down in front of the blank television and thought furiously over a complicated mixture of problems. The first thing that came to mind was, oddly, my new job tonight. Sure, I'd worked in a bar before, but I was a little intimidated and anxious about starting in Northman's. It was a bar that was less family-friendly in comparison to Merlotte's, and I wondered if there'd be any trouble.

And then there was the whole thing with Eric... the dream I had just hours ago...

I tried to dismiss that from my thoughts; it was with much difficulty, but I moved on to who could be responsible for what happened last night. I didn't really have enemies, I wasn't particularly rich, I'd never really been exceptionally nasty to anybody...

Even though I could be sharp-tongued. I knew that only too well.

Yet it seemed a complete over-reaction to invade my house over a bitchy remark that I probably had forgotten I'd ever made.

In the process, I pondered once more why Sam hadn't got in touch. He usually cared... he was a good friend. Whenever I'd been in trouble before, usually with the police, he'd been there to offer a hug, a shoulder to cry on.

But, for the hundredth time, I reminded myself that he had a bar to run; he'd be busy. He had a life away from me.

It was going to be a very long day.

* * *

><p>By the time the evening came around, I felt emotionally exhausted, something that wasn't helpful. At seven, a mere hour before I was due for work, I took a long shower (not before checking I was safe, though) and tried to make myself look, or at the very least <em>feel,<em> decent. After drying my hair and managing to put it up into a high ponytail that swished against my neck, I changed into some appropriate clothes and hurried downstairs to check the time.

I needed to get over there. Promptly.

Feeling a bit anxious, I went around once more checking that everything was locked. I would have scanned the place a third time if I could, but my watch was screaming that I didn't have many more minutes to waste.

Moments later, I sat in my car, feeling the familiar nerves creep through my skin. It was like being back in school again, or something along those lines.

Before I could dwell on that too much, I started the engine and sang mindlessly to whatever came on the radio along the way.

* * *

><p>"Good to see you, Miss Stackhouse. I was beginning to doubt whether I would be graced with your presence."<p>

As soon as I hurried behind the bar to put my things away, Eric had crept up on me and his quiet voice was teasing my ears. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, so I turned around with my eyebrows raised.

"I got here with two minutes to spare," I pointed out, realising it sounded a little pathetic. Nevertheless, he smirked briefly, his eyes gleaming in the small amount of light.

"You'll be working at the bar with Debbie tonight," he told me as we headed towards the public. "She's a little feisty, but I'm sure you could easily compete."

I didn't even bothering commenting on that. "It looks busy."

"It's heartwarming having such a popular business," he sighed, once again taking on an odd tone. He was pretty difficult to decipher. "Oh, and here's your name tag."

He placed the small, gold-coloured object into the palm of my hand and I frowned up at him after reading it. "My name's not spelt with a 'y', for Christ's sake. It's S-o-o-k-_i_-_e_."

"My apologies," he murmured, but the grin was back. Did he find this funny?

"How do you spell _your_ name?" I demanded, causing him to look a little puzzled. I couldn't remember if I'd seen the correct spelling before; my mind was pretty jumbled after all that had happened, and I was hardly to blame there.

"With a c," he told me, keeping it brief.

"Right. From now on, whenever I have to write it down for whatever reason, I'll spell it with a k," I replied, smiling devilishly.

His eyes narrowed. "I see your point. I'll get it changed as soon as possible."

"Thank you."

"Anyway, onto more important matters," he continued, emphasising his words carefully. "I've scheduled you in to work alternate nights, if that's suitable." He showed me the days and I nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good."

"And you will be paid on the last Friday of each month. I'll need to take your bank details."

"No problem."

"Ready?" he asked after a brief pause, all matters dealt with. "Remember everything that's required?"

"Yes and yes," I answered, taking a deep breath and heading out.

I was stared at almost immediately. The attention made me feel a little uneasy at first, but I had to realise that I was like a shiny new toy that everybody naturally wanted to find out more about.

The crowd were pretty mixed; there seemed to be a more-or-less equal amount of men and women, but the ages of those there were completely varied. I even saw a man with greying hair sat towards the back by himself.

The music blared, disorientating me for a moment, but I quickly grew accustomed and smiled at somebody who was sat at a stool, waiting with money in his hand.

Not long ago I'd been in his position.

"You're new here," he commented. Either he was very observant, or he was here so often that he knew all the staff.

It was probably the latter option.

"Yup, I'm Sookie. What can I get for you, sir?"

"I'll just have a plain old beer."

I bit my lip to stop myself asking him for the magic word and quickly set about getting his drink. In the process I caught eyes with a woman who I assumed was Debbie; she had flame-red hair, similar to Arlene's from Merlotte's, and it was an understatement to say the look she gave me wasn't exactly warm.

I didn't particularly want another rivalry, but ignored it in order to focus on my work.

Besides, Eric was watching my every move from the side. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but continued regardless. I wouldn't let him intimidate me.

"There you go, sir," I smiled. After taking his money, the questions started.

"You from around here?" he asked curiously. I nodded.

"Yup, always lived in good ol' Bon Temps."

"It's a decent enough place. The type where it can be both lively and quiet, depending what you feel like."

I knew what he meant; parts of where we lived were lovely and quiet, for example the area around Merlotte's, while Northman's was completely different; lively and vibrant.

I didn't get a long time to talk to him; other customers needed serving and I quickly got to know each of them, gaining a few smiles and looks of appreciation along the way.

It wasn't going too badly...

At one point, Eric even looked satisifed when we met eyes.

Just past eleven, I was putting away money in the cash register and I noticed a flash of movement by my side. Looking up, I realised it was Debbie, and took the opportunity to introduce myself, despite her dirty look as though I were a rat.

My Gran would have been proud.

"Hi, I'm Sookie," I said, trying to sound friendly. My fake smile was in place.

"I can see that from your badge."

_Okay, that was slightly cold. _"How long have you worked here?"

"A hell of a lot longer than you, I can tell you that straight." We met each other's eyes then, and her's were a bright blue. "Don't you even _think_ of getting your hands on Eric."

My eyebrows pulled together. "Excuse me?"

"Don't act all innocent. I've seen the way you two have been looking at each other... don't you even _think_ about it."

"Are you his girlfriend?" I asked, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Not exactly," she answered quickly. "But I've been working on him for the past two years and I don't need a blondie like you coming in and shitting on everything."

My mouth could have hit the floor.

"Firstly, I have no interest on 'shitting on everything,' or even our boss for that matter. I have no intention to 'work on him' either; he isn't a project. And besides, that would be unprofessional." Perhaps that wasn't strictly 100% completely true, but it sounded pretty powerful to say it. "And secondly, I don't know what pathetic stereotypes you may have about me and my hair colour, but I can assure you that I can stick up for myself, and I sure as hell ain't dumb."

Spinning around, I dashed towards a few more customers who thankfully hadn't heard our exchange. I'd made an effort to keep it quiet, knowing from past experience that it wasn't a great thing to do loudly, and I was praying that it had gone unnoticed.

I hated that it looked like I had another enemy, though. It was the last thing I needed.

* * *

><p>During my small break, half an hour later, Eric once again appeared out of nowhere and made me jump. I sighed in irritation.<p>

"Considering I had my house broken into just yesterday, I'd appreciate it if you didn't creep up on me like you've been doing tonight."

His face looked thoughtful. "I apologise. It wasn't very considerate of me. I was just enquiring about whether there's been any... tension between Debbie and yourself."

_Crap, he'd noticed. _"Um... I tried to be civil."

The expression turned to scepticism. "No, really, I did," I insisted. "But she started going on about how I was trying to steal you from her, which completely is _not_ the case."

"Steal me from her?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. You've probably got history."

Surprisingly, he scoffed. "Hardly. She may have... tried something with me a few months ago, not that I could blame her, but I made it clear that I wasn't interested."

I almost made a comment referring to how far his head was up his own ass but just stopped myself, remembering he was my boss.

"Hmm," was all I managed.

The rest of the evening went smoothly, mainly because I avoided all eye contact with Debbie. The customers seemed to approve of me, even though I had a suspicious feeling my favourite redhead was making a few unhelpful comments here and there, and when it came to closing time at 2am, I had a smile on my face.

I wiped down the tables and stacked up the chairs, feeling happy but exhausted. My bed seemed so appealing at that moment.

Although, at the same time, a part of me was worried about getting home and opening the door again.

"A good night's work, Miss Stackhouse," Eric said as we headed outside towards our cars. _Wow, that's near enough a compliment_. I vaguely caught sight of Debbie storming off somewhere towards our right, muttering bitterly under her breath.

"Thank you. It was certainly eventful."

He paused by his car, probably itching to get rid of me. He opened his mouth, closed it, then spoke. "I shall see you tomorrow."

Before I pointed out that I worked every-other day, I realised that it was early in the morning and that I would, indeed, be working tomorrow evening. "Yes, boss."

I walked away towards my own vehicle, trying not to look back. "Goodnight, Sookie," his voice suddenly called, weaving somehow through the darkness. He sounded oddly uneasy.

Little did I know, however, that those words would be playing repeatedly in my head for the next few hours.


	6. Chapter Six

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Six_

Sookie's POV

Sleep didn't come easy once again that night and, selfishly, I began to worry about my health. It couldn't be good having to deal with all the stress and worry that had been heaped onto my shoulders over that short space of time and I aimed to maybe try some yoga. Or something along those lines.

Although, saying that, a while back I'd made a pact to be more healthy, and that lasted a whole four days.

Imagining myself stretching on one of those mats made me scoff and I was giggling by the time I made coffee at ten in the morning.

Somehow, the mental image merged into Eric doing yoga, moving in all kinds of fancy positions, and I became a little hot and bothered.

_Damn that Northman!_

I'd have to ask him sometime if he was interested in that kind of thing, though. Just out of curiosity. Maybe I could subtly drop it into a conversation somehow.

He'd probably question my sanity after that.

As I sat at the table alone, my thoughts naturally drifted to the night before. It had generally seemed like a great night, but I couldn't help thinking that Debbie would be a problem. She was a frightening parallel to Arlene and goodness knows why she thought something was going on between Eric and myself.

Okay, maybe he was a_ little_ handsome or whatever, but it wasn't like I ogled over at him with my tongue lolling out at every opportunity.

And he hardly paid me any attention anyway, so she was clearly deluded.

But she seemed ominous regardless of whatever was happening, and I made a mental note to be careful around her. I needed this job and wasn't prepared to search for another one after such little time.

Randomly, I wondered again if Sam had replaced me yet.

I didn't fancy spending another day in alone, pondering over things ridiculously in my head, so I sprang upright and decided to head over to the grocery store. The fridge was looking a little empty and I wanted to occupy myself with something other than Eric, Sam, Debbie, Ja-

Out of the blue, I remembered that Tara had rushed off yesterday and that she hadn't looked too happy about it. In fact, her eyes looked tinted with worry; now that I properly considered and thought back to it, she really didn't seem her usual self. It was like her tough guard had slipped for a fraction of a second and I saw the vulnerable side to her.

Another person on my mind, then.

Sighing, I ran upstairs and changed into a short-sleeved emerald top along with black shorts, then hurried outside to my car. Obviously I did the usual safety checks, being the paranoid-wreck that the intrusion had caused me to become, and then backed out of my drive before I could have another disturbing thought.

* * *

><p>The store was in a quieter part of Bon Temps and I loved the anonymity it offered. Nobody there knew me very well and I was able to go through the aisles with my basket on my arm, no trouble coming at me. It was a pleasant change.<p>

Until I saw Sam in the alcohol corner.

His back was to me, but I would have recognised his checked shirt, belt, pants and hair anywhere. I swayed on the spot, halfway through adding a loaf of bread into my basket. Part of me was wondering if I should bother him; would he want to see me?

I couldn't make that choice for myself because he suddenly turned around, his eyes widening as he saw me.

"Sookie!"

Gosh, I'd missed his smile.

At the same time, he looked worried as he headed over. "Sookie, I heard about what happened! I didn't want to come over yesterday in case you needed some space. Is everything alright?"

"Sam," I sighed. I was so relieved that he cared; he hadn't forgotten about me after all. Everything was okay between us. It felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders. "Everything's fine, the police are investigating."

I told him everything I knew, once again repeating the story. His face was intent the whole time and I just knew deep down that he was sincere with his feelings. He had the most expressive eyes I'd ever come across, something we apparently shared, and it was just one of the things I admired in him.

His expectant face cut off my thoughts. "Sorry, what?" I asked, dazed, realising I'd drifted off.

"I was asking if you'd managed to get that job you applied for? Not that I'm happy about you leaving, of course, but..."

"Have you managed to replace me?" I asked, realising it came out harsher than I'd intended. He knew I was merely curious, for he just nodded.

"Yeah, a young girl called Hadley. She's nice enough."

Hadley... the name sounded vaguely familiar. "Good. That's... good. And yeah, I've got a job in a bar called Northman's."

His face tensed up immediately and I recalled how Eric had called him a jerk before. I wondered once again what had happened between them and was just about to ask before Sam spoke. "Eric Northman?" He said the name as though it left a bitter taste in his mouth, which is probably exactly how he felt.

I nodded. "He mentioned you once or twice."

Sam didn't elaborate on that but it was clear he wasn't pleased. "I'm glad you've found work, anyway. Feel free to call me if you ever need me, though. I'll always be here."

That seemed like an odd thing to say out of the blue, although maybe he was just concerned because of the robbery. "Thank you, Sam." Without thought, my eyes moved down towards his own basket; it was full of alcohol. Whiskey, vodka, beer. "Having a party?" I asked lightly.

He smiled very briefly but didn't answer. "I'll see you around, Sook. Keep in touch."

"I will do."

Without another word, he headed to the counter and made his purchases.

Our exchange had been brief and I wondered if he felt angry because I'd decided to work for Eric. Then again, that shouldn't really be any business of his and it definitely shouldn't have affected our friendship in any way.

Twenty minutes later, I left the shop feeling more puzzled than I had going in.

* * *

><p>I felt really bad shutting the back of my car with my derriere, but I really didn't have any more free hands when I'd gotten the shopping out of there. It was a struggle balancing the groceries on the way to the front of my house and I knew it hadn't been a wise idea when I realised I'd have to struggle for my keys.<p>

Somebody needed to quickly invent something clever to help with this difficult task. Maybe a lock on the door that would open with the press of a button, like with vehicles.

Awkwardly, I placed some of the shopping on the floor as I rummaged through my pockets. I just recognised the hard outline of the key when the sudden feeling crept over my skin.

It began on the back of my neck and slowly travelled across my shoulder blades, down my arms and into my stomach.

I was being watched.

Flashbacks of all the horror films I'd watched in the past flickered relentlessly through my mind in some horrifying slideshow and I took a deep breath to calm myself.

Maybe it was a bird or something.

I heard rustling in the bushes which surrounded the place and my breath caught in my throat. Realising that I couldn't defend myself with a bag of shopping, I pretended to be oblivious and shakily opened the door. Once inside, I dumped all my things onto the kitchen table and rushed to grab a knife again. It dismayed me that my life had been like this recently and I had a twist of fear at the thought of it being like this for the foreseeable future.

I took another deep breath and waited.

Embarrassingly, I was too afraid to look out of the window. I had visions of a crazed face suddenly popping up, their furious and manic eyes locked on me as their target.

I'd definitely been watching too many movies.

The time I spent standing there felt like an eternity and I thought about calling somebody to stay there with me. It was selfish once again, but I didn't like the feeling of being so vulnerable. I hated relying on other people too, because experience told me they were likely to just let me down, but I really needed the comfort.

Why was somebody doing this to me? Or had everything that had happened gone to my head, making me imagine crazy things that would eventually turn me mad?

No, that was stupid. I was perfectly sane.

I headed towards the phone and came very close to dialling Eric's number. From what I gathered, he was the last person who had rung me and so his number would still be on there somewhere.

But would it look pathetic needing him like that? Would it be suitable to call my boss under those circumstances?

Naturally, I thought then to Sam. He'd understand.

But he seemed irritated with me. Perhaps my paranoia was twisting my thoughts, but I was convinced.

Then again, he'd said he'd be there if I needed him. He wanted me to keep in touch.

All the time I spent there pondering, the person outside – _if_ there was a person – could have easily attacked me. I reasoned this and thought that maybe I was wrong.

A loud knock on the door made me think otherwise.

My body went so cold that I thought I was going to lose my balance and fall over. It was such a fright that I had to spend several seconds trying to calm myself. My heart was racing in my chest, so loudly that I could hear it, and I inched over to the door, once again peeking through the hole.

It was Tara, thank_ God_.

Shaking myself, I opened the door and smiled at her.

That smile disappeared when I noticed the look on her face.

"Tara, what's wrong?" She stood in the doorway, almost swaying on the spot; it was, again, a horrible parallel to what had happened to me just earlier. "Tara, please say something... you're scaring me."

Her legs edged forward, creeping into the household. I shut the door behind her, an oddly chilly breeze creeping its way inside. All thoughts of the possible intruder flew out of my mind and I was solely concerned about my friend's wellbeing.

She seemed to have lost the ability to form words.

"Are you ill?" I asked tentatively, afraid of the answer.

"No..." she murmured, and I felt a relief lift off my shoulders. "But my Mom is."

My heart flooded with sympathy; I knew exactly how tough it could be when relatives were unwell. She'd never been close to her mother – far from it because of how dependent she was on alcohol, something that repulsed Tara – but clearly this had caused a great amount of pain for her.

Tara dragged her eyes to mine. "Her liver's fucked. It's all the shit she drinks and forces into her body! She's done this to herself and now I'm gonna have to deal with..."

She trailed off, two tears rolling down her cheeks. I grabbed her in my arms and rubbed her back in circles, trying my hardest to calm her.

"They took her into hospital a while ago," she admitted, her voice muffled against my shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Sook, but I was hoping it'd just be another routine thing. Turns out her body is slowly failing. They don't think she has long left."

"Oh Tara," I sighed. There really was nothing I could say in those kinds of situations; I could try to be comforting, say that everything would be alright in the end, but it'd just be lies, and both Tara and I would know that.

So, I stayed quiet and allowed Tara to let out her sorrow.

Life could be awfully cruel.

"Did they say how long she might have?" I asked in a whisper.

"Just under a month."

I gripped her tighter. "I'll be here for you. _Always_."

"I've wasted too much time, Sook," she said, pulling away from me suddenly. She looked manic, her eyes wild and sad. "I spent most of the time cursing her existence, screaming at her for what she was turning into and now she's dying! Hey, maybe I caused this. Maybe I was such a bad daughter that..."

"Tara, don't talk bullshit! There is no _way_ you can be blamed for this happening! You tried to help her stop drinking many times, it's _not_ your fault."

"I probably made her _start_ drinking."

"No, she chose to deal with her problems by turning to a bottle. You didn't force her. Come on, I'll get you a coffee or something."

"That isn't gonna help, for Christ's sake!" she snapped, clearly not thinking straight. "Look, I'm gonna just... I dunno, I need time to think."

She hurried to the door, making her way to her car.

"Tara!" I protested. "Tara, you can't drive in this state! Please come back inside."

"No, Sook, I really need some time alone." Her fingers were running through her hair wildly. "Thank you for saying what you did, but it doesn't help the guilt that's gnawing away at me."

With that, she recklessly backed out of the drive, her tyres squealing as she pulled away.

"Shit!" I groaned, getting straight into my car to follow.

* * *

><p>The road was long and straight outside my house, and I could see Tara's bright red car racing away just in the distance. I pushed my foot down on the accelerator and tried my hardest to catch up, despite my own car's painful protests.<p>

I managed to follow her for a long time, keeping up with every turn that she made. It was lucky that the Sheriff wasn't out patrolling otherwise we'd have definitely been booked, and that would've been far from ideal.

My mouth almost dropped open in surprise when Tara took a random right that led us straight into where I happened to work.

_Ah crap. Why here?_

It was late in the afternoon and so the bar would be very quiet; it was still open, though, and Tara stormed straight inside, clearly intent on forgetting all her troubles.

Alcohol most definitely was _not_ the answer, and I raced in after her, feeling furious at her stupid behaviour.

I watched her slump down onto a barstool, one of the many available, and I sat beside her with a frown. There was maybe one more person in there with us, I hadn't really checked, but when Tara saw me, she rolled her eyes dramatically.

"What the _hell_? Were you _following_ me?"

"Yes," I answered bluntly. "You were being a fricking idiot! Did you want to kill yourself?"

"I'd recognise those angry tones anywhere," a sudden new voice said, and Eric popped up from underneath the bar, completely startling me. Tara's eyes narrowed in recognition and I turned to face my boss, who was looking at me with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. The smallest trace of a smile lingered on his lips. "Are you following me too, Miss Stackhouse?"

"No, I most definitely am _not_," I sighed. "My friend here just happened to turn into the bar during her _crazy little stunt_."

"Shut up," Tara snapped. "I need a drink."

"Tara, don't be stupid! That's what's killing your mother and you want to do the same?"

She ignored me and faced the barman. "I'll have a vodka, now."

I turned to Eric. "Do _not_ give her that."

"Do it now, I've got a right to be served!"

"_Don't_."

He looked at us both, frowning. "One vodka coming up."

My head dropped into my hands. "Eric Northman, you are intolerable."

"I'm also the owner of this bar," he smirked, handing Tara the drink. "That's $3." She rummaged in her pockets and managed to find the right money. I scowled at them both.

"Don't give me that look, Miss Stackhouse," he chided. "You'll end up with frown lines."

"I'll do whatever I damn well want."

"My, my, what do we have here?" From behind the bar, a tall woman with curly blonde hair appeared, her eyebrows raised with interest. She had bright blue eyes, almost like Eric's, and her lips were painted red with colour. A sign of danger.

Her cheeks were heavily made up with blusher and, in a quick sweep of her body, I saw that she was wearing a black top (with an unpleasant slogan in bright red letters) and a leather jacket.

Wow.

"Pam," Eric said suddenly, smiling over at her affectionately. A part of my stomach twinged. "Pam, this is Sookie Stackhouse who I was telling you about just earlier. She's our newest barmaid."

Pam's eyes moved to me. "Sookie," she repeated. "How..."

"Please don't say my name's unusual. I really am sick to death of people saying that."

Her mouth snapped shut. She pouted. "Eric wasn't exaggerating when he said you were feisty. I think I like it."

"I'm glad to have your approval."

"Ooh," she said, grinning and showing her white teeth. "Looks like I have a rival for sarcasm. I _am_ pleased."

During our exchange, Eric had watched with amused eyes.

"Do you work here, then?" I asked, trying not to sound too dumb.

Pam nodded. "I'm Eric's P.A. Personal assistant," she added, just in case I had an IQ lower than 50.

"I know what it means," I murmured.

She grinned. "Good. Anyway, I have to sort out some important orders for His Royal Highness here. I'll see you around, Sookie." And with that, she disappeared, leaving a sudden waft of her perfume lingering in the air.

I immediately wondered if they were lovers.

Then I felt awful, because my best friend slumped over onto the bar.

"She's just had the one drink," Eric muttered. "How can she be so..."

"Never mind that, I'm taking her home." I tried to lift her off the seat and, embarrassingly, I failed.

"Need a hand?" he asked, but didn't wait for my reply. He leapt over the bar (_completely_ showing off) and effortlessly carried her in his arms, kicking open the door as we headed outside silently. After we'd strapped Tara safely into the back of my car, he took a few steps back and looked at me wordlessly.

"Thanks for your help," I said quietly. "_Again_. We'll come for her car tomorrow." After a pause, I added, "I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"It's no problem," he replied, without expression on his face. "I understand that I'm quite irresistible and therefore difficult to stay away from."

"Don't flatter yourself," I grumbled, getting into the driving seat and slamming the door with some force. In the mirror I saw him smile before he turned around.

The light feeling it caused in my stomach made me furious at the reaction he caused.

I didn't know what I was falling into.


	7. Chapter Seven

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Seven_

Sookie's POV

When I woke up the following morning and remembered everything that had happened, I rushed straight away into the spare room to check on Tara. Nothing else mattered.

I was met with an empty bed.

That struck fear into my heart and I immediately rang her cell phone, barely able to type the numbers. There was no reply.

_Damn it!_

I was trying my hardest to help her; she'd been through a tough time and all I wanted was the best for her. Couldn't she see that? Wasn't she being ungrateful by just leaving like she had?

Or didn't she _want_ my help anymore? Had I pushed her away?

That thought made me sit down at the table, staring into the distance. I could be a good person... I tried. Sometimes.

_But most of the time you're a horrible bitch, _a voice helpfully reminded me.

It wasn't like I did it on purpose; it was my way of defence, my protection against being hurt. I'd had bad experiences before; letting people too close usually led to them letting me down.

Or maybe I shouldn't have made such dangerous generalisations...

It had crossed my mind several times too that, perhaps, I had been a little ungrateful towards Eric. He'd helped me several times, and I had a bad habit of snapping at him. I couldn't help it; when I was around him, it was a sort of natural thing to do.

It had to stop and I wanted to, but it'd be difficult.

Perhaps everything that I believed in was too deeply engrained that it couldn't even be changed?

Without even realising, I sat at the table for about an hour before I actually did anything. I rang Northman's, and an unfamiliar voice told me that a dark lady had picked up a car that had been parked there overnight. That explained where Tara had gone.

But what was she doing with the car now, though? She could be acting stupidly reckless and there was nothing I could do.

I just had to wait.

* * *

><p>The house became an unbearable prison after a few hours, so I eventually decided on going for a walk. Bon Temps could be quite beautiful in the sun, and I relished in the warmth beaming down onto my skin as I headed around the tiny place.<p>

I passed a few familiar people on the way and managed to smile at them, something very few returned. Hoyt Fortenberry seemed very odd with me; he was one of my br... well, he was somebody I _knew_, but he looked almost unable to meet my eyes.

I did _try_ to make an effort with people but whenever I did, it was usually thrown back in my face. It almost made me give up on my little self-discovery I'd had just earlier in my kitchen.

I still had to try, though. I made enemies way too easily; Arlene and Debbie to name a few.

Although, perhaps that wasn't my fault. They were the ones who'd done something to harm me...

No, I couldn't make excuses.

As I continued to walk in the pleasant weather, my thoughts turned naturally to Sam. I knew that I shouldn't think so much about him, but I couldn't help worrying about all the alcohol he'd been buying. There was definitely something off with the way he had acted and I began to worry that he might have some problems.

It was bad for me being so concerned. He seemed to care about me, but maybe I was disillusioned. He had fired me after all...

Sighing, I reached for my MP3 Player and decided to spend the rest of the walk shimmying pathetically to Lady Gaga. She'd make me forget my problems.

Temporarily, at least.

* * *

><p>The day passed slowly, so I was grateful for when I was due in work. I made a special effort to get ready with an hour to spare, and I drove there completely on time. Eric nodded in approval as I passed him, and I couldn't help a tiny smile.<p>

It was busy, as usual, but that kept my mind occupied; there was no room for constant thinking about people. The only things I could afford to think about were smiling, drinks, money, change.

Everything went smoothly (thank goodness) until I suddenly felt a presence behind me a few hours into the shift. My first thought was Eric, then possibly Debbie, but I turned around to be greeted by the woman I'd met with long blonde hair just a few days ago.

Was her name Pam? It was something like that.

She looked at me with wide eyes and I frowned at how close she was. Talk about invading personal space. "Um... hi," I managed.

"What's going on between you and Eric?"

I stared at her wordlessly, surprised by her directness. Without even flickering, she stared back at me, demanding an answer.

"Nothing," I replied eventually, wiping at the bar.

"Sookie, despite what you may think, I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were."

"So be truthful with me, then," she demanded. "Anybody can see that there isn't solely a working relationship between you both."

"There is, though," I grumbled. "Nothing has happened and I doubt anything ever will." Did that make me sound unhappy about it? Just to clarify, I added, "He's just helped me out a few times."

"What's that a euphemism for?"

"Pam, you really are relentless!"

She smirked. "That's my middle name."

"Why are you so interested anyway?" I asked. "I assumed you and Eric were... you know..."

"Fucking?" she supplied, snorting loudly. "That's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. He's not my type. _Completely_ not my type. I don't like dicks."

I guessed for a moment that she was calling Eric a dick, which would be understandable even though he had been great to me, but then it hit me. She was a... "Oh. Oh, _ah_."

"But anyway, you're dodging my question, Miss Stackhouse."

"Pam, I swear to you now that _nothing_ has happened between me and Eric..."

"Is that my name I hear?" The subject of our conversation emerged out of the door (as usual at a_ completely_ inconvenient time) and raised his eyebrows.

"No, we were talking about somebody called Derek," I replied quickly, attending to a customer before he could say anything else.

"You two," I heard Pam sigh, followed by the sound of her heels as she left.

As I headed towards the cash machine, smiling a little to myself, a familiar scene unfolded in front of my eyes, ruining my newfound optimism. Debbie was by my side before I could blink and the hatred in the air was almost palpable.

_Keep calm, Sookie, rise above it for once..._

"What did I _tell you_ about Eric?"

"Something about you working _on_ him?" I replied distractedly, focusing on the money I was counting. I heard her sharply intake a breath and quickly hurried over to my customer.

"There's your change, sir," I managed with a smile, but she was already following me like some kind of dog.

"Everything's turned to crap since you started working here," she spat, a few inches away from my face. She was trying to be intimidating, while I was trying my best to not get angry. It was difficult; I felt the defence mechanisms fighting away, but wanted to be mature about the situation.

"That's not true," I replied levelly. "I haven't done anything wrong, Debbie."

"That's debatable."

"Congratulations on having that word in your vocabulary." As soon as that came out, I regretted it. I knew being reasonable wouldn't last... _dammit_!

Clearly struggling for a comeback, she growled – actually _growled _– and stalked off.

That hadn't gone too well.

I decided to move on and my thoughts quickly moved to Tara and her mother. I hadn't seen her since she'd broken the news and I was full of worry for her. I'd never really been very close to her Mom, far from it actually, but knowing that she was dying made me feel a heap of sympathy and compassion.

_Tara had better get in touch soon or I'll..._

"Sookie, can I please have a quick word with you?"

Eric's voice once again filled me with irrational pleasure and I glanced over in his direction. Once again he was leaning against the doorway, looking totally relaxed and se...

_Whoa, stop right there._

"Of course," I said politely, making an extra effort. I followed him into his office – something that was ashamedly exciting – and once he shut the door behind me, it felt very... intimate.

No, private was the word I was looking for.

"Is something wrong?" I asked while he sat down. I tried not to stare at him too much, but he was wearing a tight fitting black shirt and grey jacket, and he looked like some kind of model. His hair was dishevelled too, and I-

"It depends. I was just wondering if you-"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door and it was clear from his face that he felt irritated. When the person showed her face, that irritation spread to me.

_Fucking Debbie_.

"Hi, sir," she said softly, sounding pathetic and obviously not noticing me. When she did, though, her eyes narrowed to slits full of horror. It actually made me feel cold.

For once, I wasn't doing anything to provoke this reaction. Nothing had happened between Eric and myself. I was _innocent_.

But, despite this, she hurried away without another word, cursing wildly under her breath.

I met Eric's eyes and he rolled his own. "She's too much trouble."

"I can see one obvious solution," I replied breezily and he smirked briefly.

"It doesn't seem fair, let alone professional, taking away her job because she's a pain in the arse."

I smiled. "But anyway, what were you saying?"

The amused expression disappeared off his face and he shook his head. "Actually, it doesn't matter now. If you could return to the bar, Miss Stackhouse, that would be much appreciated."

I was confused at his sudden change of heart, but nodded regardless. "Sure."

How he could have finished his sentence was on my mind for most of the time after that.

* * *

><p>The end of the night eventually crept up on us all and I began stacking the chairs, wiping down the tables, all the usual tasks involved in the closing up routine. I felt the night had gone okay; I hadn't been particularly nasty to anybody, there hadn't been any major incidents...<p>

Well, unless you counted a certain person, but I hadn't retaliated, something that I was proud of.

I felt brave enough to give a proper smile.

"Happy?" Eric asked, popping up behind me once again. He had a habit of doing that.

"It won't last," I said, speaking the truth. I hated my negativity, but prepaing for the worst was the least painful way to live.

"I'll walk you outside."

He locked up, waving goodnight to Pam who shot out of there in a flash, and just as we were about to bid each other goodbye, I saw the sight that made my heart cold. It seemed as though I'd had a spooky premonition.

"Oh, what the_ hell_?"

I walked around my car in dismay, taking in the sight of its destruction; each tyre had been slashed and was completely flat, and there was a long scratch along the side, as though somebody had dragged their keys along it. I could imagine the sound.

My first thought was of Debbie.

I felt Eric behind me and he exhaled loudly. "It's times like these that I regret not installing more security cameras." He caught sight of my distressed face and corrected himself. "Sookie, I'm really sorry that this has happened. Do you want me to call the police?"

I sighed. That was the last thing I wanted to do. "It's kind of you to offer, but I don't feel like dealing with them right now. There's always the morning. Well, it technically _is_ the morning, but you know what I mean." I was babbling.

"As you wish," he said, lingering by my side. "It appears you have no way of getting back to your house. Do you want me to take you back?"

It seemed like the only way. And fifteen minutes or so alone in the car with Eric? It really shouldn't have sounded so appealing.

I nodded. "If it's not too much trouble. Thank you."

"None at all," he said, heading over to his car. "We'll have to sort this out in the morning." He opened the passenger door for me, surprisingly, and I slipped inside with a smile. _Another one_. The leather seat was a pleasant change from my car and I snuggled in, earning a puzzled look from him.

"It's comfortable," I shrugged, resulting in a brief grin.

Soon after that, we were out of there, and I lost myself in my thoughts as he sped along. I felt a sudden urge to apologise to him, to say sorry for something, but I didn't know what inparticular.

I was sick of acting the way I did around him, after I really considered everything. He'd helped me so many times and all I could reply with was a stinking attitude. This echoed what I'd considered earlier in the day.

I guessed that it was the time to finally have a few epiphanies.

But the way I acted would be hard to give up (I'd thought that so many times in my head, too), so I tried to place the idea towards the back of my mind, fearing I wouldn't have the strength to persist. I was a coward.

"You're quieter than usual," Eric observed.

"Just thinking," I replied.

"If you're worried about Debbie then I can-"

"Don't worry about her, she's just an inconvenience." I let out a sigh; the urge to talk was bubbling inside of me and I couldn't contain it. "Eric, I just... I don't feel like I deserve your help all the time."

He looked over at me briefly. "You're an employee and so I treat you with respect. Or try to, most of the time."

"But why?" I asked, swivelling towards him. Everything I'd been feeling guilty about boiled over, out of control. "I've been thinking a lot today and I'm a rotten person. I've never seen it before, but now I realise why people rarely talk to me or get close to me." Realising what I'd said, I placed my head in my hands. "Sorry, Eric. I don't mean to burden all my worries on you."

"It's really no problem," he said, pulling over the car for a moment. _Surely we couldn't be home yet?_ I glanced outside and saw that we were on the side of a road, one with hardly any cars or lighting. I should have been feeling scared, but I just felt anticipation over what he was about to say or do.

"Sookie, you shouldn't put yourself down like this. You-"

"Eric, please don't patronise me or anything. We both know I'm-"

"Sookie, let me finish." His eyes stared straight into mine, demanding attention. It was incredibly intense. "When I first met you at the bar, I could see you were troubled. It... it was like you were somehow distancing yourself from everybody around you, and I was intrigued to find out why, because I went through a similar phase. I could see that you were damaged, and I... I guess I wanted to know why."

"Why?" I frowned. "Why did you want to know why?"

"Partly curiosity. And partly because I wondered if you were something I could fix."

"_Fix_?"

He let out a long breath; he looked regretful. "It isn't easy to express what I'm trying to say, Sookie. I..." Without warning, he looked over his shoulder. "Let's get you home, it's late."

"What, _Eric_?" I spluttered as he pulled off. "You can't leave the conversation like that!"

He remained silent, something that made irritation prickle over my skin. I could feel the anger beginning to build and I tried to suppress it for once, knowing it wouldn't be wise.

But, naturally, I couldn't.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment now? Eric, this is totally unreasonable!"

Before I could say anymore, we were outside my house. He certainly drove fast. "Goodnight, Miss Stackhouse."

I looked at him; he was staring straight ahead, as though the darkness had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the Universe. "Eric...?"

"Sookie, I've said enough already," he grumbled, still not meeting my gaze. "Make of it what you can."

As soon as I stepped out into the chilly night air, he was backing away out of the drive. I watched the lights on the car slowly fade into the dark, almost swallowed by it, and headed inside before it became too cold.

There was a lot to think about, and it mainly involved whether or not I was a good person.

I suspected, deep down, that I wasn't.


	8. Chapter Eight

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Eight_

Sookie's POV

There was a sudden loud knock on the door the following morning and I pulled myself away from the TV – a particularly interesting repeat of Jerry Springer. It was a programme that made me feel better about my own life, so I grumbled at the interruption.

I wasn't exactly pleased at the prospect of a visitor for another reason too; I hadn't bothered doing anything with my hair, so it lay messily around my shoulders, and I'd settled for wearing a baggy old grey T-Shirt and jeans.

On the way to the front of the house, I considered quickly dashing upstairs to change, but then sighed; there'd be absolutely no point. I was just being vain.

When I opened the door, though, I regretted my decision.

Eric was standing there with my car behind him, completely fixed and perfect, and he jangled the keys between his long fingers.

But... _what?_

"I... How...?" I managed, left with an open mouth.

He smiled, looking beautiful in the morning sun. _Damn, had I really just thought that? _"I thought I'd offer a helping hand."

_Again?_ I still seemed unable to grasp any words. "But..."

"Try speaking in a full sentence, Sookie," he said, teasing me. I narrowed my eyes briefly.

"Okay. Okay, firstly, thank you. I don't know why you've done this but... wow. Um, secondly... why? I could have done this myself... not that I'm ungrateful, I'm actually beyond pleased."

He stared at me throughout the mini-babble and I thought back to what we'd been saying just last night, the time when he had helped me..._ again_. He'd mentioned something about wanting to fix me, and I still needed an explanation for that. It wasn't something that came up in a normal, everyday conversation, that's for sure.

But that could wait. There were many other questions and answers.

"I'm glad you're still not mad at me," he admitted. "And, in response to your question..."

"Do you want to come in?" I asked, not really considering what words were leaving my mouth. "I mean, sorry for interrupting you again, but it's hardly the place to have a conversation." _Babbling, again._

"Thank you." We were soon inside, a spooky reminder of before, and I randomly thought about how I hadn't heard anything at all from the police. It was terrifying knowing that whoever had broken into my home was still out there.

After making a coffee and taking a seat on the sofa, Eric continued.

"As I was saying..." He suddenly licked his lips, something that made heat prickle across my chest and cheeks. I prayed that my skin hadn't been painted pink, but I did notice Eric smirk slightly. _Crap_. "Sorry, I just have to say... you make a wonderful cup of coffee, Sookie. Very... tasty."

That was a significant pause. I wasn't imagining things; that was most definitely a significant pause.

"Glad to hear it," I just about managed.

"Anyway, wait, what were we talking about?"

I thought back, trying to clutch at the beginning of the conversation, and chuckled quietly to myself. It was hard to concentrate. "Um... oh, I was wondering why you went to the trouble of helping with my car. It seems... odd."

"Why odd?"

"I said it last night, but I really don't understand why you offer so much help to me when I can give nothing decent in return."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively and I had to stifle a gasp.

"I hope your mind isn't in the gutter, Mr Northman," I replied curtly, biting down on my twitching lip.

"Excuse me?" His face adopted an innocent expression, something I could hardly resist anymore. Screw what I_ should_ be feeling, he looked freaking _gorgeous_. "I don't quite follow what you're saying," he added.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean," I replied, hiding my smile behind my coffee cup.

"I'm afraid I don't. You'll have to elaborate." He leaned forward closer, hands on his knees, and I swallowed. Rather loudly.

Since when did he have the ability to reduce me to some bumbling teenager?

"Please answer my question," I eventually murmured. He sat back, turning serious again. Whenever he was in a room with me, he had this outstanding presence... he always somehow managed to capture my attention and keep me interested, no matter what or who was around me. From what I'd experienced, I guessed he had this effect on everybody (cough, Debbie Pelt, cough) and_ she_ obviously couldn't handle it.

Could I, though?

After a thoughtful silence, Eric began his careful response. "I... I felt I _should_ help you, so I did." It was weird hearing him stutter a little and I watched as he ran a hand through his blond hair. It stuck up in random directions, almost representing the tangled thoughts inside his head.

Something inside told me to keep quiet and I did, waiting for him to speak again. Surprisingly, he did. "I... It feels, to me, as though I haven't helped enough people in the past. I'm making up for it now by helping you."

I was interested in his thought process, but soon realised that this was the most personal thing he'd ever said to me. It was dangerous territory and a thoughtless comment could ruin everything, so I remained quiet once again.

"That's my answer," he muttered after a few long seconds, drinking down a large quantity of coffee. "You're not complaining about it though, are you?"

"No, no, of course not!" I said in a rush. His lips quirked upwards for the briefest of moments and I found myself suddenly fascinated by his smile; he never seemed to be happy for very long and I wondered why. I also wondered why he felt he'd been useless in his past. As well as _that_, I couldn't help thinking about why...

"Good," he said simply, puncturing a hole in my thoughts. I glanced up to see him staring down at his coffee and I took the opportunity to have a good look at him; he looked tired, with red rims around his eyes, and even his previously creamy skin was a little pasty.

I wanted to make him better.

Embarrassingly, he caught me staring, and he frowned. "Something wrong?"

Instead of hiding from the truth, I decided to embrace it for once. "Are you okay?"

The frown deepened, and I hated the way it made him look older, wearier. "What makes you ask that?"

"I'm genuinely concerned about whether you're okay. If you're well... and happy."

He met my eyes for a long time, his own darting back and forth slightly as he thought. "What makes you think I'm not?"

It didn't seem like I was going to get an answer easily. "I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you look tired, Eric."

He sighed loudly and gave a non-committal shrug. "I didn't sleep much last night. I was kept awake by... something."

"A particularly annoying owl?" I offered, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He laughed momentarily, and the light that filled his eyes was nothing short of beautiful, and he looked so young and carefree that I wanted to take a picture to capture the moment.

But, naturally, it quickly disappeared, and he turned back into anxious Eric; the one that worried me.

"No, not that."

It suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable in the room; I didn't cope well with tension, so I searched for something simple to say. I found nothing. "Um... how much do I owe you for the tyres, anyway?"

His head snapped up and he blinked, as though taken out of a deep trance. The bewildered, vulnerable look was kind of endearing. "Owe me? Don't be silly."

"I'm not. You've got a business to run and so I should pay you for the repairs. It was my car after all."

"And it was on my property, a place you trusted to be safe."

"Eric, please, let's not argue about this. I want to pay you. How much will it be?"

With a sigh, he eventually gave in and I promised I'd get him what he was owed within a few days. He wasn't happy about it, but that was just tough. Sometimes being stubborn came in handy.

Both of our cups were empty and I wondered what was keeping him at the house. Strangely, I didn't want him to go. No, actually I was being selfish and was able to admit it for once; I didn't fancy another day in alone, and that was pathetic of me.

Maybe I could go after Tara... or Sam. I could even make an appearance at Merlotte's. It had to be done sometime.

But the thought of going there made me shudder.

No, I'd do that later in the day. My mind was made up. I had to, or people would think I was never going to apologise.

"Your face is quite interesting to watch when you're thinking." Eric's comment out of the blue made me speechless; what was I meant to say to something like that?

"Um...?"

"Sorry," he said suddenly, shaking his head. "I'll head off now, anyway, I'm clearly becoming a nuisance. I'll see you tomorrow evening, anyway."

"You're not a nuisance," I replied as we headed back to the door. "And thank you again, it was really kind of you."

He gave a random salute and then he was gone, leaving me confused once more.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Merlotte's stood in front of me, looking both ominous and heartbreakingly familiar. I sat in my car for a long time, just staring. Nothing had changed. I don't know why I had expected it to, but it was still a shock. Everything was the same; I clearly wasn't missed.<p>

But, in reality, there was no reason why I should be. I'd been easily replaced.

As I made my way inside, I began to feel a little nervous. _Please don't make there be any trouble..._

I kept my head down - something completely out of character - and a waitress, somebody completely new, took me to my table. Her name was Maria and she was completely non-judgemental; it was a breath of fresh air.

She gave me a wide smile and handed me a menu. After I ordered, my eyes flew around cautiously and I saw a few people looking back at me curiously. Strangely, Hoyt Fortenberry gave me another very odd glance; his eyes widened whenever I glanced over his way.

_He must _really_ not like me_.

I thought that everything was going reasonably well at that point; Arlene wasn't there from what I could tell, and when Maria brought my food over, I asked her where Sam was.

"Sam? Oh, he's not been in for a couple days now. No idea why, sorry. Enjoy your meal."

That did _not_ make me feel reassured.

Was he having problems... with alcohol? I prayed not, and the salad that I chewed constantly began to taste soggy. I'd come in here to make peace and...

"_Oh_, I should have known it wouldn't be long before _you_ showed up!"

Arlene stood in front of me, with her hands on her hips and a sneer on her face. _Okay, Sookie, this is the perfect time to be the better person. Do not lose your temper._

"Arlene," I said, standing up. She stepped away instinctively and I tried to ignore that. "I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last week. It was unacceptable."

She snorted. "You're not sorry. You've been wanting to do that ever since you set eyes on me."

_True. _"Arlene, I've said sorry. That's all I wanted to say."

Keeping it brief was the best option. With that said, I sat down and tried to finish my food, but it had turned tasteless. It went round and round my mouth like clothes in a washing machine. Ugh.

I kept my head down and Arlene eventually left, muttering a few comments bitterly under her breath. I thought it had gone okay; I'd not lost my temper at her comments and I smiled to myself. It was a start.

Eric would be proud.

That thought caught me out of the blue and I sighed heavily. He really was weaving himself into my thoughts regularly like some kind of blond, handsome snake (I mentally slapped myself for thinking something so stupid, _gee Sookie_!) It was beginning to get scary. I didn't really know how to handle the situation. I had no control over what was happening, and that frightened me.

I needed a long, quiet walk.

But, as I strolled around minding my own business and thinking deeply, I once again couldn't shake off the feeling that I was being watched.


	9. Chapter Nine

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Nine_

Sookie's POV

_"Come on, Sook! You can't _really_ believe I'd do something like this on purpose!"_

My eyes shot open and I bolted upright on the sofa. I'd somehow managed to fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon, but I knew I wouldn't be able to rest any longer.

Things like this happened to me every couple months. No matter how hard I tried to block everything out regarding my... my brother, certain moments managed to creep through, taking my breath away and leaving me shaking.

I hurried towards the kitchen, trying desperately to keep my mind occupied on some other insignificant task, but it was no use. The memory started seeping through like blood on a bandage.

Taking a deep breath, I leaned against the counter and gave up. There was no use fighting, and I was suddenly back in the prison visitor's room, avoiding eye contact with my brother.

_"Sook. Sookie, please look at me. I swear on my_ life_ that I didn't do this purposefully."_

_I kept my gaze down on the floor, stained with gum and dirt. Thinking of a family member being locked away in such a place made me feel sick; the people were strangers, but they were all tough and belonged there. But my brother... I just didn't know what to think._

_All the evidence was against him._

_"What was the point in you coming here if you're just gonna ignore me?"_

_I looked up at him then, noticing how tired he looked. His hair was greasy, his eyes were red raw, the light in them gone. We used to get on so well, keeping each other company after Gran's death, but now... now he seemed to be one of the strangers too._

_No matter what he said, I couldn't shift one word from my mind. _

_Murderer._

_"Sook," he continued, now that he had my attention, "I _swear_ to you it was an accident. I know it looks bad with me hating Lafayette and all, but I swear I did _not_ run him down intentionally. He was in the middle of the freaking road!"_

_I stared at him wordlessly. I wondered if he'd rehearsed that speech._

_It was a well known fact that Jason had despised the former cook at Merlotte's, Lafayette. There'd been several confrontations between the pair, sometimes ending in violence, and it was all because Jason was a little homophobic. That, together with his aggression, lead to his downfall._

_And now, everybody in Bon Temps believed that my brother was responsible for murdering Lafayette Reynolds, resulting in his arrest and charge for murder._

_"I'm sorry, J-Jason," I whispered, picking up my bag. "But I just... I don't believe you."_

_I stood up, gathering a little attention, but I ignored everybody else there. "Gran would be horrified," I murmured, turning around and heading towards the door._

_"No, Sook, wait! Please, I didn't do it! Sookie!"_

_That was the last I heard of him._

I stared outside with tears prickling at my eyes. I'd been weak to let it happen, but I'd had no control. Shaking, I sipped at my coffee, but it didn't have the usual comforting taste. The images were engrained in my head once again and would be there for the forseeable future.

I hadn't been to visit him since that had happened, not even for the trial, and that had been years ago. Everybody in Bon Temps had looked at me in disgust, some still did, even though I was completely innocent. I'd even liked Lafayette, but that didn't stop the abuse and dirty looks.

Perhaps that's why I turned into the tough person I've grown to both rely upon and despise at the same time. I didn't know if I could change; it was a defence mechanism, something I could rely upon.

Wiping away at my nose, I headed towards the TV in a desperate attempt to clear my mind before tonight.

* * *

><p>As I drove to work, I gradually realised that I was still shaken up. My hands were jittery on the steering wheel and I began to wonder if I was competent enough to be on task for the evening.<p>

Pulling up at Northman's, though, I told myself to stop being so stupid. Working would be better than sulking around at home.

And besides, I'd get to see Eric, somebody who'd shared half of my thoughts during the day.

Admittedly, I hadn't really focused on him too much, but I kept suddenly remembering the interesting conversations we'd been having. There was definitely something odd going on.

Deep in my thoughts, I headed into the back of the bar and put all my belongings away. The room was empty and I had a few minutes to spare, so I sat down on the nearest seat and closed my eyes for a while. I tried to imagine my thoughts clearing like clouds on a sunny day, but that was pretty darn difficult. And-

"Is there something wrong, Sookie?"

Eric caught me by surprise (once _again_, I might add) and I turned to see him leaning casually against the doorway. He looked beautiful as ever, with a dark blue shirt and black pants, and I noticed that he was wearing braces to hold them up instead of a belt.

_My goodness, I'd give anything to-_

_No. Ssh._ He needed an answer. I cleared my throat to focus. "What makes you think that?" Perhaps what had happened earlier was really taking its toll on me. I really didn't want to talk about it, though, even if that wasn't particularly wise. Maybe it'd help to share for once.

"I'm merely concerned," he replied, suddenly moving out the way for somebody else to make their way through.

Ugh, it just_ had_ to be Debbie, didn't it?

Her face was a picture, however, and I couldn't help smiling briefly. She caught that, and grimaced at me. "Nice and cosy in here between you two," she observed. "Having _fun_, are we?" She said the words so bitterly that her teeth ground together, almost like a dog growling. A smirk crept onto my face at the image again, and of course that made her even more angry.

I really had to control myself.

"I was talking to my boss, Debbie," I answered eventually. "That's allowed, I think."

She turned to face me. "Whatever. Oh, I'm sorry to hear about your car, Sookie. It's _such_ a shame."

I let out a long, calming breath. There hadn't been any proof that it was her, but the way she sneered and grinned told me that it was. Eric seemed to detect this, too, so he intervened. "Yes, it was a pathetic act by whoever's responsible, and I'm determined to find out exactly who is. Anyway, Miss Pelt, would you mind if I could please finish my conversation with Miss Stackhouse? In private?" he added for good measure.

I hated being so smug, but the immature part of me was relishing the way she reacted. "No problem. I'll actually do some work, considering that's what I'm _paid for_."

We were alone again after she scurried off and I shook my head in disbelief. Following that, I walked over to a long mirror to check that I looked decent, but was surprised to see Eric's head pop up in the reflection behind me. Really quite close behind me.

_Act natural._

"I really do appreciate your concern all the time," I said suddenly, meeting his eyes. "Like I said, I just don't know if I deserve it."

"Sookie, do you want to go for a drink tomorrow night?"

I couldn't hide my surprise at his abrupt change of topic; he probably saw my shocked expression staring back at him and I saw him grin. He had just...

He'd asked me out. For a _drink_.

Of course, it might have just been something completely professional. Yes, it probably was.

He noticed my hesitation. "It wouldn't be anything serious, I just wanted to talk to you about a few things."

Now _that_ sounded intriguing.

Would it be a mistake to say yes? Every part of me was screaming to say it, but then my rational thoughts were pointing out that getting in too deep could result in being hurt. I could even end up damaging Eric.

_But_... it was just a drink. A drink that wouldn't do any harm.

Something randomly occurred to me. "What about the bar?"

"I'm the boss, so I'd be giving myself a well deserved evening off. And besides, Pam would be more than capable of taking over in our absence. That is, if you agree to go."

I swallowed and glanced at the floor. There was no use going over and over it; one word was yelling at me.

Turning away from the mirror, I smiled up at him. "Sounds great. I'd love to. What time were you thinking?"

He actually smiled back, looking gloriously youthful and bright. We were standing quite close together and the faint smell of his aftershave was surrounding me. It was making me feel a little dizzy.

"Is eight alright for you?"

I nodded and his smile grew.

"Okay, that's great. I'll pick you up then."

And with that, he was gone.

I was confused, excited, nervous and intrigued, all at the same time. I might also have let out a _little_ squeaky noise to convey those emotions.

Taking one last check and straightening my pony tail, I headed out to the bar. I had a shift to somehow get over with, after all.

* * *

><p>Eric was by the side of the bar most of the night, watching everybody working. It was a little intimidating, but I kept up what I did best, and served and smiled like there was no tomorrow. That, of course, would be an inconvenience because I'd never get to have my drink with him, but never mind that.<p>

Debbie was on fine bitch form, rating a possible eight out of ten, and at the same time showing off to Eric with every opportunity that came her way. I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if she'd hitched up her skirt directly in front of him.

Everytime I caught eyes with my boss, he actually smiled properly at me, something that made my chest feel a little light. He was a very confusing individual, mostly giving off mixed signals, but I was probably the same. I had no idea what was happening between us.

But that was what made it thrilling. It was a nice departure from thoughts about...

Just as I saw the possibility of my brother popping back into my mind, I busied myself even further, wiping away at tables and doing anything to keep my mind occupied.

It was exhausting, but it had to be done.

* * *

><p>The evening flew by, and I even managed to gain a decent amount in tips because of the happiness that I was exuding. Once again I found myself wiping the tables down with a smile and I didn't care what people thought for once.<p>

I headed behind the bar to clean the other surfaces and the man responsible for my good mood joined my side.

"Good work tonight."

"Thank you, boss," I smiled, pleased with the compliment.

"Some customers have been commenting on how cheery you looked. They suspected that sex was the reason why."

I had a little coughing fit from surprise. My cheeks flooded with heat and I immediately felt embarrassed for reacting such an immature way. _Stupid Sookie_. "I don't quite know what to say to that!" I spluttered.

He laughed, a deep throaty sound._ Ugh_.

We were silent for a while and, after glancing around, he gave me the thumbs up. "All finished."

"Good," I replied. "It's been a _long_ day."

I gathered my coat and bag from the other room, lingering by his side. We stopped by the side of the bar.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then, Miss Stackhouse," he said with a grin. It was wonderful that he was looking happier around me, and I smiled back brightly.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help hearing..."

I rolled my eyes at the familiar voice and watched as Debbie popped her head beside Eric. She looked up at him, frowning. "Did you say you'd be seeing her _tomorrow_?"

He nodded. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Um," she gave a brief laugh, "I thought she worked alternate nights."

"Sookie does. But I'm taking her out for a drink."

I tried not to look too pleased. I failed.

She met my eyes, narrowing her own to terrifying slits. She really could be quite threatening and I tried to straighten up. "I don't _believe_ this. You're completely fucking everything up! What are you, some kind of devil in disguise? Don't think I haven't heard about your brother! You're probably trouble like him!"

My jaw tightened and I closed my eyes to keep calm. How dare she bring him up...

"Don't you even _think_ about mentioning my brother," I said quietly. "That's none of your fucking business."

"Ladies, can we-"

Eric's attempt to intervene went unnoticed. "I'll do whatever I like, it's a free fucking world! Well, not for your brother anymore, but hey, he deserves it."

I couldn't help it. All my anxiety and anger from the past twelve hours boiled over and I stepped closer to her. I felt Eric's presence close behind. "Why can't you keep a hold of your jealousy, Debbie? It's quite pathetic seeing how you act around here. Get _over_ yourself."

"Jealousy?" She snorted loudly. "You're the one who should get over _your_self."

"I'll remember that when I'm having a good time tomorrow night."

I turned around and tried to convey to Eric through my eyes that I was sorry for this happening, that I was being provoked. I didn't have time to see his response, though, because everything suddenly went very wrong very quickly.

I usually prided myself with being quite strong, but Debbie's explosive reaction took me completely by surprise. I felt long nails digging into my side as she pushed me with all the force that she could manage, and I – completely taken aback – lost my balance.

I tried to protect myself desperately, but it was too late.

My head collided with something cold and hard, and a throbbing quickly followed, taking my breath away. I felt pressure on my side as I landed on the floor, and the uncomfortable pain flooded there too.

Everybody seemed so tall... but everything was blurry at the same time, too. I felt my body drooping. Nothing responded. I tried to blink and see clearer, but it seemed easier to close my eyes.

I distantly heard somebody call my name, panic laced in their voice, but my surroundings quickly melted into darkness.


	10. Chapter Ten

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Ten_

Sookie's POV

"Sookie? Sookie, please wake up! Please just say _something_..."

_Who _is_ that? _The deep voice sounded familiar and close to my ears, but nothing seemed to make sense. My body felt groggy and slow, and it seemed like too much effort to make it respond. Trying to open my eyes was painful too; it felt like they had weights pulling them shut and I didn't have the energy to wrestle against them.

So, like a coward, I gave up and let myself escape.

* * *

><p>I was being taken somewhere, I knew that for sure. I was being carried somewhere. I could feel chilly air whipping at my skin and there were noises and flashes of red and blue blurring in the distance. I briefly smelt cigarette smoke.<p>

Something or some_body _was touching my right hand, but I felt so disorientated that I just wanted to cry.

* * *

><p>"Why hasn't Sookie moved at all? It's been over a<em> day<em> now!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but all we can do at the moment is wait-"

"I don't _want_ to fucking wait! I want to know why she isn't awake and speaking!"

"Sir, you need to understand that head injuries are very serious and-"

"Please don't patronise me, I _know_ that."

"_So_, you must take into consideration that you have to wait. It's tough, Mr Northman, and I realise how much Miss Stackhouse must mean to you, but you just have to patiently wait for her to wake up in her own time."

I heard a distant, frustrated sigh, then nothing else.

* * *

><p>"Wait, hang on... Yes, she's stirring! <em>At last<em>! Sookie?"

"Ugh..."

"Sookie, can you hear me? Look at me?"

As I began to open my eyes, I realised that everything seemed a little more clearer than the last time. I had no idea how long it had been, where I was, or what exactly had _happened_, but I figured the person who I'd heard speaking would give me some answers.

I blinked once more and took in the bland room around me. The smell of cleaning products caught the back of my throat and I started coughing, causing somebody to hastily hand me some water which I gratefully took. It soothed my sore mouth and I swallowed happily.

Glancing up to see who was in front of me, I immediately recognised Eric. I smiled, genuinely pleased to see him, but the events of the past day still seemed a little distant and unreachable. I kept getting glimpses, but nothing helpful.

He didn't smile back, though (as_ usual_), and I began to feel anxious. Was something seriously wrong? As if to confirm this, he immediately called for a doctor and I began to panic. Was I...

Instead of thinking those dark thoughts, I reached up to my head and felt something unfamiliar. I recalled hitting my head hard and drew the conclusion that it must have been a bandage. Crap. Just as I glanced down at my left hand, which was also in plaster, a tall man in a white coat came hurrying in, ready with a clipboard. He had combed hair and scruffy sideburns, and I found myself randomly wondering what look he was aiming for. It was definitely old-fashioned.

Then I remembered where we were and focused. "Miss Stackhouse," the doctor smiled, heading by my side. His accent was heavy. "I'm Dr Compton. How are you feeling?"

_I've just been attacked by some crazy lunatic bitch and feel oddly numb. Apart from that, I'm just swell. _"A bit groggy."

"That's perfectly normal after a head injury. Do you recall what happened?"

"Yes, but in bits and pieces. I d-" It was becoming increasingly difficult to speak and, after asking about that, Dr Compton reassured me that it was just down to the various painkillers pumping through my system. The way he worded it made me sound like some kind of machine and I wrinkled my nose to show my disapproval. He had seemed nice until that remark...

As he moved on to examine my hand, I frowned. "What's happened to it?"

"You fractured your wrist during your fall. Nothing too serious."

It _was_ something serious, though; it meant I wouldn't be able to work for a few weeks at the very least. As if on cue, I felt Eric's eyes on my face and glanced at him. "Sorry," I murmured.

"What for? This isn't your fault."

"I did try not to get into any conflict but just-"

"Don't worry," he insisted, cutting me off. "You won't have to put up with Debbie anymore. Not for a long time. She's been arrested, and quite right too. Oh, and she admitted to damaging your car. I had a suspicion it was her all along."

I tried not to smile. Again, I failed. "That's good. I mean her being arrested is good, not her damaging my car. Bitch." He gave me a lovely grin.

Dr Compton suddenly stood upright, reminding us of his presence. "We'll keep monitoring you, Miss Stackhouse, and if you ever require any assistance just press the button on your side. I'm glad that you're with us again. You'll be fine for now."

As he left, I turned to Eric. "How long was I out for?"

"Just under forty eight hours," he replied, sitting by my side as my eyes widened.

"Shit."

"Yes. That sums up my general thoughts for the past two days."

A silence fell between us and I stared up at the ceiling. "You're going to be seriously under-staffed for the next couple weeks," I said out of the blue. Eric looked at me with his eyebrows raised high.

"Sookie, that's the least of my worries right now." His face turned serious and the way he stared at me was so intense that I just had to look away. "I was incredibly frightened," he eventually admitted. "You weren't responding at all for hours and hours."

I had nothing to say in response, so just looked back at him. His eyes were even more red than usual and I noticed the dark colouring underneath them. "Haven't you slept?" I asked.

"No. I've been here the whole time."

_Wow. _"I... You... Thank you."

He suddenly stood up, staring out the window with a thoughtful expression on his face. "This wasn't all some careful plot to escape having a drink with me, was it?"

I frowned at him in confusion, but suddenly remembered what he was referring to. It sounded like he was being serious, but when he turned back around with a shy smile on his face, I laughed with relief. "Damn, you caught me." After a pause, I added, "Thank you for staying with me, though. Out of curiosity, did anybody else turn up?"

His face turned suspiciously stony. "Your friend from the bar was here yesterday. The pissed one."

"Tara," I sighed, remembering then what had happened. "Was she okay?"

He frowned. "Shouldn't you be focusing on yourself?"

"Was she sober?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"From what I could tell, yes. She was very upset."

_Oh, Tara. She still cared. _"Okay. Anybody else?"

He hesitated. "Not that I know of."

That sounded dodgy to me, but I didn't have the energy to argue any further. In fact, I felt pretty drained after only being awake for a short period of time and I yawned widely.

"Maybe I should let you get some sleep, even though you've spent most of the time with your eyes closed. You lazy cow," Eric teased, back to his old self. I dropped my mouth open at him.

"Cheeky."

He winked. "I'm going to head off to the bar to sort out a few issues with Pam, but I'll be here when you wake up. Don't worry."

"Okay," I murmured, feeling perfectly content as I slipped back away from reality once more.

* * *

><p>True to his word, Eric greeted me as soon as I woke up a few hours later. I was really beginning to warm to him. Like, <em>really<em> warming to him.

"Hi," I smiled.

"Hello."

"Did you get your issues sorted?" I asked, picking at a bunch of grapes that he'd brought along. It was probably too early to say, but I was feeling a lot better than before, and my mood had certainly improved too.

Or maybe that was because of my company...

"Yes, just about. Pam had to manage the place by herself for two days, as well as hiring some temporary staff before we could hold some more interviews, and she was a little stressed to say the least. She said you were, I quote, an inconvenient little bitch. She says it with love, though."

I chuckled. "_That Pam_. I do apologise for the problems this has caused, though. I usually heal quite quickly, so I should be back there within a few weeks."

"My employing you hasn't exactly gotten off to the best of starts, has it?" he said. "But never mind, you're worth the hassle."

_Worth the hassle._ I didn't know what to say to that.

Instead, I looked at him and once again noted how drained he looked. "You really should've gotten some rest though, Eric. It's not good for you being awake for so long. And I can't imagine the hospital chairs were the most comfortable piece of furniture to sit in."

"You're right there, not the most enjoyable place I've ever stayed overnight," he replied with a wry smile. "But really, I guess... well, I didn't want to leave until you woke up."

I recalled hearing random snippets of his voice before during my unconsciousness, but couldn't think what was actually said. It was _so_ frustrating. "I'm awake now, yet you're still here," I countered. "Not that I'm trying to get rid of you, obviously, but-"

"Oh, _Sookie_," he sighed. For good measure, he added a little eye roll. "I thought you would've taken the hint by now. I _care_ about you. I-"

There was a knock on the door and, feeling frustrated, I looked over expecting to see a doctor, but was completely shocked by the man standing there instead.

It was Sam.

I didn't know whether to be pleased to see him or not, taking our last encounter into consideration, but my natural reaction was to smile, and he hurried over, stiffening as he saw Eric by my side.

Eric's reaction was much the same. His nostrils flared, his eyes widened, and he actually looked terrifying. I noticed that his hands balled into fists and I immediately felt anxious.

_Should I carry on as though I haven't noticed? That'd make me look pretty dumb, though... Should I try to calm things down? Should I call for help?_

Perhaps this would be the perfect opportunity to discover what had happened between them. Ever since we'd met, I'd constantly wondered about Eric's reason for calling Sam a jerk.

"What-"

Sam cut my attempt to speak off. "Sookie, I just heard everything from Tara. Something like this wouldn't have happened at Merlotte's. How are you feeling now?"

I heard Eric curse under his breath. "Not too bad thanks, Sam. I've had better days."

There was an awkward silence and he hovered by my side, clearing wishing that Eric wasn't there. His eyes were fixed on the floor and instead of skirting around the issue like the two men with me, I suddenly had enough. I'd had a terrible couple days and the last thing I needed was a testosterone filled hospital room.

"Will you _please_ tell me what has happened between you two?" I said, sounding every bit as exasperated as I felt.

"I don't know what you mean," Sam muttered, his eyes flickering briefly at me.

"Oh you _would_ say that, always acting Mr Innocent," Eric snapped bitterly.

They met eyes then, and I genuinely expected lightning to strike between them or something along those lines. Okay, that may have sounded stupid, but I'd been on a_ lot_ of drugs during that time and I was a little disorientated. Despite that, I still needed to know what was happening.

"Look, if you at least _talk_ about it then maybe you can resolve the problem, whatever it is," I said, trying to sound reasonable. Instead, both of them scoffed at almost exactly the same time.

"I don't think that's possible, Sookie," Eric sighed.

"Don't speak to me like that," I grimaced, all thoughts of our conversation just before flying out of the window. "I'm trying to help here and you two are acting like a pair of immature teenagers. Just tell me what the hell has happened between you!"

Sam met my eyes first and let out a long breath. He too looked exhausted, and I wondered what a random passer-by would think of us three huddled together in a tiny room. We didn't exactly look our best.

But that was the last thing on my mind. Eric leant forward suddenly. "Okay, I'll tell you. But it's going to change how you see him."

"Not unless I give _my_ side to whatever _shit_ that's gonna come out of your mouth," Sam hissed.

Eric ignored him. "It started back when we were at University..."


	11. Chapter Eleven

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Eleven_

Sookie's POV

"And...?" I prompted. Eric had stopped after a mere few words and I stared at his puzzled expression. I couldn't really understand why he was finding it so difficult to share what had happened; perhaps it was more serious than I had imagined? My initial suspicion was that their disagreement was either because of a woman or money, something trivial like that, but maybe I'd thought wrong?

I suddenly felt a little guilty.

"We were in University," Sam chipped in suddenly, edging a little closer, "and, to begin with, we were actually quite close."

It seemed almost impossible to imagine that; I couldn't quite picture them smiling together, going out for drinks, playing soccer... normal things. I just had images of them glaring, sneering, fighting.

That thought flickered through my mind within a couple of seconds, but I remained silent out of courtesy.

"I came up with the idea of starting a business together," Eric continued, looking directly at me. I could see the anger beginning to appear in his blue eyes; they seemed even more icy than before, even though his temper was probably smoldering inside. "We always had the dream of starting a bar."

"That's obvious," Sam muttered helpfully.

"_I_ focused most of my time trying to put everything together," he persisted, ignoring his comment. "I planned everything out, worked my _ass_ off to earn some money-"

"It wasn't just _you_ that worked hard," Sam interrupted again. "You're clearly trying to make yourself sound like the hero here."

"Okay, what exactly did you do to help? Apart from come up with the name which, by the way, was shit."

"You agreed to it!"

"I was probably pissed at the time!"

"Woah, woah," I sighed, breaking off their silly argument. "Stick to what's relevant, _please_." I turned to Sam. "What happened to your idea for the business?"

"We had a disagreement-"

"No shit, Sherlock," I muttered, making Eric grin wryly. However, when he turned to the other person in the room, his face completely transformed, as though it was completely wiped clean of emotion. "And tell us, Sam," he murmured, "why did we have that _disagreement_?" The tone of his voice was mocking, childish, and I had a bad feeling about what was coming next.

"You know damn well why."

"Well I don't!" I grumbled impatiently. "What happened?"

"Sam, your_ lovely_ ex-boss here, slept with my girlfriend while I was out working,_ trying_ to make money for our future business."

I stared at him wordlessly. Surely I'd misheard Eric? Sam was a good person... well, at least that's what I thought. Perhaps this was a reality check. Had the truth been blurred for me? Recently, Sam had been changing into somebody I wasn't as attracted to; for a start, he had robbed me of my job, then he'd been out buying large quantities of alcohol...

Had I been fooled all this time? Was I so blinded by his physical appearance that I hadn't been able to see what he was really like?

Maybe Eric was right. Maybe Sam _was_ a jerk.

"It was once..." he protested weakly. "It was a mistake."

"You still did it," Eric snapped, sounding terrifying. "And, at the same time, you completely ruined all my hard work towards the bar. I despised you for it and I still do to this very day."

"You got what you wanted, though?" Sam countered. "We both did. There's no harm done in the long run."

"No harm done?" he scoffed. "No harm _done_? You were supposed to be my best friend, the one I could rely on, but you_ fucked_ my girlfriend! That doesn't exactly qualify under the category of no _harm done_!"

It was like I was seeing Sam completely differently. I found myself beginning to dislike him, maybe even loathe him. All the things he'd ever done to piss me off starting replaying over and over in my mind like waves, completely flooding out all the positive things.

But a part of me - a stupid, irrational part of me that I wanted to slap - still cared for him.

"So that's why he's a jerk," Eric concluded after a long silence.

"Okay," was all I could manage.

"Sookie, that's all in the past now, though," Sam added, clearly trying to push aside everything that had just been said. How did he even _think_ that he could do that? It irritated me and I glared at him.

"Sam, I... right now, I don't really know what to think of you. I think the best thing would be for you to leave."

His mouth dropped open as though I'd just announced I was an alien. "What? Sookie, we've always been the best of friends... one time we even-"

"Don't say that," I interrupted. My head was beginning to throb and I needed more painkillers. "Please, let me think."

"You can't throw away almost five years of friendship because of one stupid mistake during my _teenage years_... I've changed. It really was a one-off. It was ages ago, for Christ's sake!"

"But you still did it."

With a nod towards Eric, he muttered, "You're beginning to sound like him."

"I don't see any problem with that."

He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Don't do anything you might regret, Sook."

As he headed towards the door, I murmured, "I don't intend to."

And then he was gone.

Eric sat by my side silently, and I expected him to say something to gloat any minute then. But he stayed quiet, letting me think. It made me respect him even more and I suddenly realised that I'd been too quick to judge him. He actually seemed a decent person in comparison. Underneath the false exterior, there was a kind man.

My mind starting running through several thoughts at a time. Maybe Sam's actions were what had made Eric so tough; it was probably the reason why he didn't trust many people or get close to anybody. After one bad experience, he shut off most people in fear of getting hurt.

It sounded remarkably like myself.

I turned to him with a new-found affection. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asked, his eyebrows pulling together. He looked even more tired than before.

"For what happened to you. It sort of makes me feel like I understand you a little better."

"In what way? I'm intrigued."

"Well... it might explain why you're a little cut off from some people. I mean... you're sociable and everything, I just don't get the impression you're particularly happy with having to communicate with others. Perhaps because you don't trust them."

He stared at me with wide eyes and, out of fear that I'd said something completely wrong, I continued. "Although that doesn't explain why you feel the need to help others, like you said that one time. But hey, I'm probably over-thinking things."

He looked surprised. "You remember that?"

"I remember most of our conversations," I shrugged, trying to look non-commital. I probably failed.

"Really?" A smile was quirking on his lips and it was infectious.

"Yes. They're... memorable."

He laughed briefly. "Glad to hear it. And I guess you're right. I don't really trust many people. I'm cautious because of what's happened to me. It's very hard to have faith in others."

"I know what you mean. I'm the same after... after my b-brother."

I could feel the familiar rawness creep up in my throat and I reached for some water, wincing at the pain that it caused. Noticing that, Eric quickly arranged for a nurse to sort out the problem, and within a few minutes I was comfortably numb.

Although little glimpses of my brother's face kept creeping through.

It was clear that Eric was curious about it, but he kept silent. He was being so thoughtful, so considerate, that I felt the need to share something with him in return. It would probably be better if he knew anyway.

Maybe then he'd realise that I'd grown to trust him. He was one of the few people I felt that way about.

I had no idea if it was mutual, but my mouth was already moving and telling the story before I could even stop. He listened attentively throughout, even clutching my hand lightly at one point when I felt the tears falling, and at the end he looked at me with an expression full of sorrow.

"Oh, Sookie," he sighed, barely above a whisper. He didn't need to say anything else; I found the two words comforting in themselves. It was strangely wonderful how he said my name.

I wiped my nose with a tissue and tried to smile. "I haven't seen him since then."

"Do you want to?"

"I... no, I don't think I'm strong enough to."

"Sookie, you're a strong person. One of the strongest I know. You've carried all that on your shoulders and haven't even broken down in front of me until now. You keep it all to yourself, not demanding sympathy or concern, and that shows how strong you are. That's brilliant."

"I'm stupid, though. I let out all my anger at what's happened on people who happen to accidentally make insensitive comments. I can't control myself."

"It's not your fault that there are people like Debbie out there."

"No, but I don't have the right to go around losing my temper and hitting people."

"Perhaps not. But you'll get better with time." He paused. "Maybe we could help each other."

I looked at him for a long time, realising how much each of those words meant to me. I'd longed for somebody to care for me, to actually, _truly_ make me want to get better, but nobody had been dedicated enough. They'd let the rumours fill them with poison before they could get close.

Even Tara clearly wasn't in the right state of mind for me. Sam was out of the question.

But Eric... Eric filled me with hope. It was strange how the situation between us had turned so rapidly.

I smiled, suddenly feeling exhausted and moved at the same time. "That sounds perfect."

He stood up out of the blue, smiling back down at me. "I'll let you get some rest. And, just so you know," he paused in the doorway, "as mad as it may seem, I do trust you, Sookie."

With those words playing over and over in my head, I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>I was allowed home a few days later and it wasn't until I got inside that I truly realised how much I'd missed it. The clinical smell of the hospital seemed to be permanently stuck on my clothes but, after an awkward shower, I felt immediately better.<p>

Eric was waiting downstairs with a cup of coffee on the table by the time I'd finished. He didn't seem to mind my messy, wet hair.

"Here's the drink I promised," he said with a grin. "Apologies if it doesn't quite live up to your expectations."

"No, it's fine by me!"

As we sat drinking in silence, a few stray words and sentences from conversations we'd had in the hospital kept floating around in my mind. _I care about you. I didn't want to leave until you woke up_. Those had to mean something... surely. Or was he just being overly friendly? It would be nice to know what exactly he was thinking somehow.

"How's Pam been?" I asked, just to keep my mind off the vicious circle. I was afraid I'd blurt something out loud.

"Blunt as ever. She's managed to acquire some temporary staff until you can return. That is, if you want to..."

"Of course I do."

He nodded. "Good. Although she has picked staff that suit her own tastes... I would have complained, but it was an emergency so anybody decent would have had to do."

I hoped I was more than decent to him.

"But I really am _so_ glad to get shot of Debbie," he continued, rolling his eyes. "She was as annoying as an arrow in the neck."

I smirked at the comparison. "That's pretty accurate."

He stayed and talked with me for hours, oddly giving up more of his time to stay in my company. He still puzzled me, but I found myself wanting him to stay longer and longer. When he eventually did have to leave, I almost grabbed his leg in protest like some anxious dog.

Then I realised how clingy that image was and reminded myself to keep sane.

"I'll probably come over tomorrow to see how you're doing, if that's alright," he said, standing outside by his car. "Just tell me when you're fed up with me. I'll take the hint."

I smiled, but deep inside I was screaming _That'll never happen! _"Will do. Thank you, Eric. Again."

He hesitated by the door, then abruptly climbed inside and drove away, disappearing once again into the darkness.

As I began to make my way inside, still smiling to myself, I began to realise just how much I was starting to depend on Eric. It was bad; even though I trusted him, a small part of me was screaming that people had a tendency to let me down. I had various examples of that.

That wiped the smile straight off my face.

I brushed my teeth, staring blankly at the reflection in the mirror. I was looking a little better, but still tired. Still exhausted from the constant whirlwind of thoughts that my brain somehow managed to contain.

I knew another sleepless night was ahead and I groaned as I scrambled into my bed.

I was desperately hoping that the painkillers were the cause of my excessive mood swings. I didn't know how much more of it I could take.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Twelve_

Sookie's POV

I heaved myself up from the couch - a surprisingly tough task - and switched on one of my old lamps. Light flooded the room as I sank back down, taking the weight off my feet. The combination of medicine I had to take and the lack of freedom my injuries gave me was making my body increasingly weaker. I hated being stuck at home, especially on dark rainy nights like that particular one at the time, and the sound of the wind whipping the trees was making me a little uneasy.

To give myself peace of mind, I _really_ wanted to check that everything was locked, but I just didn't have the energy.

Instead, I kept my eyes trained on the TV and tried to ignore the images in my head of a face suddenly popping up at the window.

I'd definitely been watching_ way_ too many horror films.

Shivering slightly, I pulled my blanket around myself and right up to my neck. I rested my chin on my knees and stared ahead, but I could slowly feel my eyelids getting heavier...

My thoughts moved sluggishly. I began to drift away into a dream...

Then a very loud knock on the door gave my the fright of my life.

I jumped so hard that I somehow managed to jerk my neck. Cursing, I struggled upwards and headed to the entrance, wondering who the hell would visit so late on a Thursday evening. Shooting pains fired up and down my arm as I stroppily swung open the door.

It was Eric.

I didn't know whether to feel surprised or not. A few nights ago, he'd promised to visit 'tomorrow' and that had never happened, so I just gave him a questioning look.

He took the hint.

"I apologise for not seeing you as I promised. There was..." He trailed off suddenly. "Can I come inside? It's a little wet out here." He'd obviously forgotten an umbrella and hadn't even bothered with a coat (goodness knows why) so his shirt was practically saturated with water and clung to his chest.

It was a pleasant sight. I wasn't going to complain.

As well as that, his normally perfect hair was limp and dripping water into his eyes, so I nodded and stepped aside. A pool of water formed on the floor and I ground my teeth together to stop a comment from coming out.

"Thank you," he murmured. "As I was saying, there was a _big_ problem with the bar and I just didn't have the time to come here. I'm really sorry if you were expecting me."

"It's no problem," I lied. What he didn't know was that I'd had a nice night-in planned. I'd found some bottles of wine and even a couple of old movies. After confiding in him at the hospital, I'd hoped we were gradually getting closer.

But it was fine. Totally fine.

"I'll get you a towel," I added, making my way upstairs. The sudden shock of him appearing had given my body some temporary ability to move properly, but I knew by the end of the night that I'd be exhausted.

But hey, positive thinking.

He gratefully accepted my offering and began roughly drying his hair, as though he'd just stepped out of the shower.

_Stop with the mental imagery... this is not good for your health._

Once he'd finished trying to dry the rest of himself, I noticed that his shirt was still soaking, despite his efforts.

_You could get him to remove it... _

"Uh, do you want me to see if I've got any old clothes lying around?" I said in a rush. It was so embarrassing that I was getting flustered. "I've got some baggy tops that might fit you."

The thought of him in one of my pieces of clothing was enough to make me want to giggle, but I held back, otherwise I might have sounded like a maniac.

He smirked adorably. "Alright. Show me what you've got."

So I did. There were a couple of shirts I'd bought after going to some gigs and Eric settled for one of those. "Heavy metal fan, then?" he asked, slowly taking off his old top. There was a weird splat as it dropped to the floor, but that didn't matter.

Eric was topless in front of me.

I cleared my throat and tried to look normal. _No big deal, this is fine. Perfectly normal. Just... keep looking at his face_. _His face, Sookie_. "Uh... yeah. Yeah."

My pathetic stalling response made him grin. Damn, why was he _doing_ this to me? "Good taste." It took some effort, but he managed to get my old shirt on and it fitted him nicely. When I say nicely, I mean that it was tight in all the right places.

_I sound like a pervert_.

"Let's sit down somewhere," I eventually muttered. I nearly groaned when I was back down in my seat; it had taken so much effort not to collapse onto the floor in a pile of goo when he'd-

"So, how've you been?" he asked, returning to normal, _sane_ conversation. He looked at me intently and full of concern, and everything turned serious again. I felt stupid for being so immature earlier.

"Okay, I guess. The days are kind of blurring into one, though." That was a completely honest answer; the only way I knew the day was because I'd taken a quick glance at my calendar. It was a little worrying.

"Are the painkillers working?"

"Oh,_ yes_," I said, somehow sounding like a full-on drug addict who was high. The conversation really wasn't going too well, although Eric seemed oblivious.

"Good. And how are you, uh, emotionally? It took a lot to tell me what you did."

I swallowed loudly. I hadn't thought too much about that. Or rather I'd tried to block it out. It was a foreign feeling knowing that somebody else had an idea of what had happened before with my brother. "I'm... not sure."

He just looked at me silently for a moment, but I quickly moved on. "How's the bar now? You mentioned there was a_ big_ problem?"

He sighed. "It's all fixed now, nothing to worry about. But it was practically dead tonight because of the weather, so I took the opportunity to visit you. It's not too bad, quieter than usual."

"Yeah, it's been horrible. The weather, I mean. There'll probably be a storm in the middle of the night. That's something to look forward to."

Just as those words left my mouth, darkness suddenly swept over the room and I gasped in panic. Trying to adjust to the lack of light, I carefully made my way to the wall and tried the switch. It didn't work.

"Must be a power cut," I said, feeling my heart return somewhere near to its normal beat. For some stupid reason, I thought it had been something to do with the-

"What?" Eric suddenly replied, sounding completely unlike his usual calm self. His voice wavered. "What did you say?"

"There's been a power cut, Eric." I tried to feel for him in the darkness but he wasn't in his seat. "Eric, where are you?"

"Please, Sookie, have you got any candles?"

It was really unnerving to hear how panicked he sounded. "Sure, I'll try to find them... give me a minute..."

"Please be quick," he murmured.

I stretched out my hand, trying to remember the layout to the room. It was difficult with my jumbled thoughts, but I eventually managed to find the drawer with what I needed. It took a lot of effort, considering I only had one working hand, and sorting out the matches took several frustrating attempts.

It didn't help that I could hear Eric's unsteady breathing all the time.

Eventually I managed to strike a match alight and set to work with the candles. I spread them around the room and they provided a tiny amount of light. I joined Eric's side to place one by him and the sight of his face took me completely aback.

He was drenched in sweat and his eyes kept darting around erratically.

He looked terrified.

"It's okay, Eric," I whispered, trying to sound soothing. I knelt down on the floor where he was and placed an arm around him. I could feel him shuddering. "It's okay, there's light now, look."

He glanced up at me with uncertainty, but suddenly sighed. "I can see you."

"Yes. And I can see you."

"Why the fuck did that have to happen?" he grunted, suddenly looking angry.

"We can't stop power cuts every now and then, Eric. It was bound to happen with this weather."

Instead of replying, he remained silent. In the quiet, I began tentatively piecing everything together. It was so strange seeing my usually strong and cocky boss looking so vulnerable and so afraid. I'd almost thought he was pretending.

I'd seen hints of that side to him when the story about Sam had come out, but it was nothing compared to this.

I longed to understand, but didn't know how to.

"You're probably thinking I'm a right freak now," he suddenly hissed, shifting away from me a little. In the candlelight I saw a look of disgust on his face.

"You have no idea what I'm thinking," I said gently. "But it's definitely not that."

He closed his eyes and rested his chin on his knees, a parallel to my earlier actions. "I don't cope well with darkness," he muttered into his jeans. It was difficult to decipher what he was saying, but I eventually managed.

I looked at him, trying to say something comforting. "I... I never would have guessed."

"I own a nightclub so that I can be surrounded by people for most of the night. I don't want to be alone when it's like this. I'm pathetic. I'm so damn _pathetic_."

"You're not. You're so not."

"But I am!" he protested, his voice loud and insistent. "I can't get over something that happened years ago and now I'm forced to relive it every time it's fucking dark! I rely on light all the fucking time and it's not something I can even fucking control!"

I edged closer towards him, somehow feeling his anger rippling in the air. "Eric, I can help. I can be your light. I've been through shit too, you know it, and I can help." The role reversal was so striking that I sat in silence for a few seconds. "Like we've said before, we can help each other."

He looked up at me and I saw the light from the flame flickering in his blue eyes. It seemed to make them even more alive and brilliant, and I began to fully see the extent of what they were hiding.

We were so alike that it was frightening. We both pretended and hid, sheltering our vulnerable sides from the harsh outside world. We really understood each other.

"I've never talked about this to anyone before." His voice was deep and croaked as it echoed around the room.

"I've told you things that I wouldn't tell anybody, too," I admitted.

"What does that mean for us?" The question lingered in the air.

"It means we..." I trailed off, mainly because there weren't the right words. "How have you coped so long? With your fear? Like I said, I really never would have guessed."

"We're both good at pretending."

"That's not an answer, Eric. I can't help you if you don't share."

"It just feels odd speaking about it."

"It won't once it's done," I said sincerely, knowing from experience. "But the hardest part is telling somebody else, confiding in them. Getting the courage to do that is the tough bit, but you can trust me."

"I know. I do."

He remained quiet for a long time after that, clearly lost in his own thoughts. I never thought I'd be put in this kind of situation with him when I'd first stumbled into Northman's.

But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

"I, uh, usually keep lights on everywhere," he began abruptly, straightening up a little. "And I rarely sleep. That's why I probably look so tired all the fucking time. Uh, there are a few dark roads and places that I've grown to cope with, but the power cut tonight took me completely by surprise. It was overwhelming, lame as that sounds."

"Eric, you need to stop worrying about sounding lame or pathetic or whatever other words you call it. I'm not judging you and I never will. It's a fear, it's _anything_ but pitiful, and there are others out there who are just the same." I paused, watching him run his fingers through his hair. "But... something must have triggered it...?"

He inhaled sharply. "Yeah."

I nodded, waiting patiently.

"I know that I can trust you," he added eventually, almost repeating himself. Those simple words meant a lot and I smiled at him, still surprised by the dynamic between us. I never thought I'd find someone like him, somebody who I could trust and really feel a connection with.

I gripped his hand, rubbing his skin with my thumb. "You can."

"It seems we have a thing for big revelations," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I smiled briefly. "Indeed we do."

"Talk about déjà vu..."

"Eric, if you don't want to talk about it, we can just stop."

"No. No." He met my eyes. "It feels right."

"Okay. Take your time."

He inhaled deeply. "It started when I was nine years old."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Just a quick note - I was previously CullenandSwan1993 but fancied a change, so there you go.**

* * *

><p><strong>The Hardest Part<strong>

_Chapter Thirteen_

Sookie's POV

"This is really difficult," Eric stated suddenly, running a hand through his dishevelled blond hair. He looked incredibly anxious and unlike his usual self, and I wanted nothing more than to change that, but realistically there wasn't much that I could really say or do to soothe him.

So, I kept my response to a minimum. "I know. Take your time."

And he did. He sat there completely still and I waited, hearing the wild wind outside.

"My grandmother died when I was quite young," he began after a few moments of silence, and I immediately felt a rush of sympathy for him. It was a truly horrible thing to go through. "I never really knew her, but she left my grandfather behind, and he was struggling to cope by himself in his own house, so he moved in with my parents soon after. I loved him to pieces and we became incredibly close over time, doing all kinds of things." The ghost of a smile crept onto his lips as he fondly remembered. "He took me fishing quite often and taught me how to play baseball."

He paused, probably to collect his thoughts. I couldn't help thinking back to my own grandmother; I had a bad feeling about how his story was going to end.

"A few years later, on the night of my parents' wedding anniversary, they decided to go out for a meal together. My granddad was going to look after me at home and I remember looking forward to it _so_ much. I was so excited at the prospect of spending a whole evening with him to myself."

His eyes drifted to his clasped hands, but I could see that he was beginning to get emotional. It was so strange seeing him like this, but so personal at the same time.

"It was going so well. It was brilliant just relishing in his company, doing all the things we wanted to. But... I... just as I was about to go to bed at ten, I heard a noise downstairs while I was brushing my teeth." He took in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes tight. I imagined that he was back there in his mind, haunted by every small detail. "Then, all the lights went off. There'd been a powercut, but I didn't really have any idea why at the time. But I started panicking and hurried down to seek some comfort from my granddad."

I prepared myself for something horrible.

"There wasn't much light at all, but my eyes eventually adjusted so I could see the basic outline of the house. And I... I went into the kitchen, crying by that point because I was so scared. Then I saw him. H-He was on the floor, and I remember him looking so pale and... and I didn't know what to do. I tried calling his name over and over, but it became obvious that he wasn't going to reply. I tried shaking him, but his skin felt like ice. It was starting to turn the colour of his hair and I just sobbed, not knowing what to do. I felt so damn helpless. I tried phoning for help, but the lines weren't working. It was the most horrific experience of my entire life."

He trailed off and I placed my hand on his shoulder, trying to remind him that I was there; that I'd always be there when he needed me, if he wanted to talk, or just for the company. He didn't acknowledge my contact, though; he just continued to stare at the floor, almost afraid to show his tears. I had no idea why; over time I'd come to realise that crying wasn't something to be ashamed of. It was a way of showing you were still alive and full of feelings, but I had to respect Eric's decision. This was tough for him, to say the least.

"It turned out he'd had a heart attack," he said eventually, a frightening parallel to what had happened to my own grandmother. "There was nothing that could be done, but I still felt responsible, y'know? It set me up for a pretty miserable and guilty childhood. I retreated into my own shell after that and had major problems at school. I didn't want to interact with anybody in case I ended up eventually hurting them too. People thought I was a freak, so they bullied me. I don't think I've ever fully recovered." He paused for a long time. "So yeah, that's why I'm stupidly in fear of the dark."

He looked up at me then, and his eyes were shining with his pain. "You've hidden it so well," I murmured. He said nothing. "Do you still feel guilty about it?" I asked quietly.

"I could have done more to help him. I should have."

He hadn't answered my question directly, but something clicked in my head; something fell into place. Perhaps he had the need to help me so much all those times because he felt like he'd failed his grandfather in such a way? Was he trying to make up for what he felt were his past mistakes, trying to erase them?

It made sense. I was finally beginning to piece together the puzzle which would lead to an understanding of Eric Northman.

"Eric, you were just _nine years old_. How could you have possibly known how to save a life? It was too much responsibility."

He didn't reply.

"It sounds to me like there was nothing else you could do."

"How would you know?" he said loudly, out of the blue. I jumped back in surprise at the venom in his response, how it felt like he had spat at me. "You weren't _there_, you don't _know_ what happened!"

"I know that-" I started, but he interrupted my attempt to calm him.

"So don't say stupid things that are meant to make me feel better!"

I had the sudden urge to cry. My throat felt tight with tears and I felt horribly embarrassed; his harsh words had completely stunned me. I stared out the window and bit down on my lip, willing myself not to be so weak.

I saw him move in the corner of my eye. "Fuck... I'm sorry, Sookie," he said, his voice cracking. "I just... I... it's... sorry."

Somehow, I understood what he was trying to say. I'd been in the situation before. I knew he hadn't really meant what he'd said; he was frustrated and deeply shaken by the pain the conversation had brought to the surface. The words had escaped without thought and I hoped that this wouldn't affect what I'd felt was a new closeness between us. I found myself forgiving him almost immediately, even though it had stung.

"I didn't mean that," he admitted. "It just hurts."

"I'm not going to pretend that I understand your guilt, but I know the feeling of the pain, Eric," I said carefully. "I can _help_ you." To reiterate this, I carefully moved over and wrapped my arms around his body. I was afraid he might react badly, but his shoulders quickly relaxed and he hugged me back, gripping to me tightly. I pressed my face against his ear, murmuring quietly over and over. "It'll be okay."

I felt him sigh and moved my hands across his back. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"It's okay. I snap whenever somebody touches a nerve or speaks the truth. I understand."

"Nobody else does, though. That's the thing."

"I know. I've spent my whole life trying to accept that fact. But there are actually some people out there that _want_ to understand. They want to help. And..." I drift off, moved by my own words, "and we've found one another to do just that."

We pulled apart at the same time and I wiped away the tears that had escaped from my eyes. He watched me doing this with his eyebrows pulled together.

"It's so wrong that people seem to treat you so badly," he said, shaking his head. "You don't deserve it."

"People get scared away by the exterior. They usually don't bother to get to know what's inside."

"Everything's so unfair." I could somehow feel the meaning in his words. "You deserve happiness."

"I wouldn't say _everything's_ unfair," I replied. "Some good things do happen. The good things sometimes outweigh the bad things."

He stared at me, his mouth open a little. "Despite everything that's happened to you, you somehow manage to say that. Either you've changed a lot, or you were hiding some wonderful person from me when we first met."

I smiled, reflecting on what he'd just said. It was possibly the most inspiring thing I'd ever heard. I could be a good person.

Eric sat quietly by my side, looking at his most vulnerable once again. Thinking back, it had really taken a lot of courage to share all that information with me and, though I was shocked by some of his reactions, I was mostly pleased that he trusted me. We'd truly made some kind of connection, and I reached for his hand impulsively, stroking his skin with my thumb. I somehow felt even closer to him because we both knew something about the other that next to nobody else did. Also, we both understood each other's frustrations and flaws.

It was a new, but brilliant feeling.

He met my eyes and I looked straight and deep into his, illuminated beautifully by the candlelight. He really was extraordinary, and I wanted to slap myself for thinking such horrible things about him when we'd first met. It was exactly what I hated people doing, judging straight away, and yet I'd been a massive hypocrite.

It was a miracle that our situation had turned out this way. It could have easily just turned into somebody else hating me without taking a moment to see what was underneath.

"Thank you, Sookie," he said suddenly, gripping my hand back.

"What for?" I murmured.

"For coming into my life."

I was touched by his words again and looked down to hide my smile. Somebody was genuinely pleased to know me. I just... I couldn't even describe the feeling in words. It made me feel so special and wanted, something that I'd barely experienced since childhood. For what must have been the third time that evening I felt like crying, but that time with joy.

Before I could, though, I soon felt his pleasantly warm hand on my cheek, and was surprised that I didn't even feel alarmed. It felt right, like we should be that close to each other. I'd been waiting so long for something like that.

I could feel my heart beating frantically, making blood rush through my veins. Heat flooded my face, probably painting my cheeks with colour.

Things like that didn't normally happen to me, only in the movies I watched to keep my mind occupied. People ran away in reality; they didn't want to get close to somebody so mad and unpredictable. I was fully expecting to be alone for the majority of my life.

_Maybe I'm misinterpreting Eric's actions, though... _a thought suddenly pointed out to me. _Maybe he's just showing me that he appreciates me as a friend. _I always thought the worst, and felt a brief moment of sickening disappointment.

But he was staring at my lips. He even licked his own. Either he was terribly misleading me, or something was going to happen. Something that would change everything.

I swallowed, furiously hoping it would be the latter.

He said my name, then, under his breath, in such a way that I no longer had any doubts. There was no way I was imagining him leaning closer. It was going to happen.

I felt a rush of anticipation, excitement and hope. My own words had never been so true.

_Some good things do happen._

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><p><strong>Okay, I guess that cliffhanger makes me evil. But it's fun that way! Please keep leaving your feedback if you can - I really do love hearing what you think. Thank you!<strong>


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Fourteen_

Sookie's POV

Eric's lips eventually pressed against mine and suddenly everything around us seemed to disappear.

I felt his hand on the back of my head, gently forcing me closer, and I placed my own on his cheek. He was flushed and warm, but that thought barely registered with me. The incredible feeling that the simple act of kissing was causing just completely overwhelmed me.

It felt so right and I didn't want the connection with him to ever disappear.

My stomach was light with some undescribable feeling; there just weren't any words good enough. It was simply wonderful. Any fears I'd had before were stupidly unnecessary.

I couldn't even begin to measure how long it had been happening for, but Eric's soft lips suddenly pulled away from mine and we rested against each other's foreheads.

The only sound around us was our uneven breathing, and I jumped when the lights suddenly came back on around us; I'd completely forgotten we were surrounded with darkness. His face became illuminated and I moved back, taking in the expression there. He stared back at me, smiling slowly, almost lazily. He looked a little dazed, probably reflecting my own state, but he seemed to appear so much different than before. Sure, I'd seen various sides to him during that night, but he just... he just looked happy.

It made me want to cry with pride and hope.

"Wow," he murmured.

"Wow indeed."

There was a small pause in which we both just took each other in.

"I... I was so worried you'd freak out," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. It looked incredibly messy, with strands sticking up in random places, and I had to admire it. Did his hair _ever_ look unattractive?

Maybe I'd have plenty of opportunities to find that out.

"Really?" I replied, laughing a little. I was appearing borderline hysterical. "That sounds like me, actually. But no, I was just imagining that you weren't gonna do what I thought you were gonna do, and then I'd look like an idiot. If that makes sense. I'm babbling now."

"Just a bit," he smirked. "What did you think I was going to do?"

"Kiss me, of course."

"Is that a request?" he asked, crouching forward on his hands. I couldn't resist.

"Well, if you're offering..."

Suddenly, we were all over each other again. I knew it was going to take some time growing accustomed to being so close to another person, especially considering I'd barely had relationships in the past, but I was excited about the possibilities that lay ahead. Whenever I thought about it, I had some strange light feeling in my chest.

I just hoped he was feeling the same way. I longed for confirmation that he was taking this as seriously as I was, and that he wasn't in it for just the one thing...

But, no. I knew that wasn't true. I'd grown to learn a lot about him and somehow that just didn't seem to be in his nature. My gut feeling told me I was wrong.

I was practically hyperventilating at the feeling of Eric's tongue poking at my teeth when there was a loud knock on the door. We flew apart and I clutched my chest in shock, looking at him in confusion.

"Expecting company?" he asked, helping me upright. I shook my head.

"No..." We headed to the door together, Eric's hand on the low part of my back, and I thought we were both looking a little shaky. He seemed to notice, too, and he gave me another cheeky smile.

"Haven't you recovered yet, Miss Stackhouse?"

Just as I placed my fingers on the handle, I lightly nudged his chest with my free arm. "You haven't seen the best of me yet, _boss_."

The light atmosphere dissolved the instant I opened the door.

It was Tara.

She was stood there, swaying from side to side in the heavy wind, and I saw a single tear trailing down her cheek. I'd never seen her cry before during the many years that we'd been friends.

It suddenly hit me. Her mother. Her poor mother.

Oh god, _no_.

"Tara," I murmured. "Please don't say she's..."

"She's gone. She's... she's actually g-gone."

She nearly fell to the floor then, but I hurried out, catching her before she hit the wet ground. Eric looked on with concern, but I focused my attention on my best friend whose mother had just passed away. "Oh Tara, darling, I'm so sorry."

My words barely registered. She just sat there shaking uncontrollably.

"Shall I help you take her in?" Eric offered, appearing by my side. I nodded, gently taking her in my arms while he helped take most of her weight. We were soon inside the lounge again, a place that now had a completely different feeling to it, and worked together to make her a hot drink and warm her up. Eric was brilliantly helpful and I just wanted to hug him, but Tara needed our attention now.

I just didn't know what to say. Eric and myself had both experienced the death of a close family member and we probably both knew how people's forced words made everything worse instead of better.

But I had to do _something_.

"When did it happen?" I asked gently, holding her hand for support.

"This morning," she whispered. The hot drink remained unnoticed by her side. "Her liver finally g-gave up on her."

There was a moment's silence, and then she began to let everything out, as though some invisible dam had broken and all her thoughts were rushing through like water.

"I'm sorry, Sook. I shouldn't have treated you so b-badly. I just... I was just so angry at her for doing this to herself. And I was afraid. Afraid of losing her b-before I could make things right, afraid of being alone. I'm just so damn selfish!"

She rested her head on her knees, quietly hating herself.

"You're not selfish, Tara. Anybody in your situation would have reacted the same way. Just forget about that and focus on mourning your mother. Try and think of all the good memories you've got."

"There aren't any!" she replied, somewhat venomously. I jerked back in surprise and glanced at Eric, but he just nodded. "You're saying all the right things, Sookie," he murmured in a way that Tara couldn't hear.

Encouraged by this, I continued. "I'm sure you have. They're... they're in there somewhere, but you've blocked them away because of the bad experiences that you've let take over. Just think back and I'm sure you'll find one. That'll help you through."

I paused, suddenly unable to speak because of my dry throat. Reaching for her unwanted drink, I took some. "That's what I did with Gran. It... it helped me through. And it didn't just help with her death, it helped with a whole load of other crap too." She met my eyes, knowing my meaning. "Really, Tara, think hard for me."

And, to my surprise, she did. Her face changed in concentration and I saw the exact moment when she thought of something. Her features softened and a small smile crept onto her lips. "I remember."

I smiled back. "Good."

"But it makes me want those times back," she said, her voice breaking. The sadness crept onto her face again. "I want her back so that we can erase all the bad stuff."

I held her close as she broke down again, a complete and shocking contrast to her former tough self. Somehow, I could feel her pain, but my eyes focused on Eric moving.

"It's probably best if I leave," he said quietly.

"Tara, I'll be two minutes, okay?" I got up and, after reassuring myself she wouldn't do anything drastic during the time I'd be in another room, I followed Eric to the door.

"That's a tough one for you," he said, standing by the door. "I'm sorry you've got to go through that."

"Don't be. Save that for Tara, it's her we should be concerned about," I sighed, falling into his arms for a hug. The strong and firm grip was strangely reassuring, and we stood there silently, just savouring each other's closeness. Against his chest, I could hear the steady beat of his heart.

"Will you be alright on your own?" he asked eventually. His voice rumbled against me.

"Yeah, I should be. Thank you for everything."

"Thank you, as well. It's strange to think through all that's happened this evening."

"Yeah," I sighed. "It's certainly been eventful."

"I'll phone you tomorrow or something," he said, pulling away to face me. "If it's a bad time, just let me know straight away, though."

"And you have a safe journey back," I added, wincing as he opened the door. The rain and wind hit us both immediately. "Sure you don't want to stay? There's a spare bed somewhere."

"I don't want to make your friend uncomfortable. I'll quickly phone you as soon as I get home, don't worry."

"Alright. If you're sure."

Taking me by surprise, he bent down to give me a quick kiss. Even though it lasted seconds, it certainly made a big impression on my body, and I had to take a moment to steady myself. He grinned, noticing this. Cue the embarrassment. "Speak to you soon."

"Bye, Eric."

I watched him back away in the horrid weather, worried about how he'd cope. Knowing everything that he'd confessed tonight made me extra on edge. But, saying that, he'd survived driving in the dark before, and I tried to tell myself this as I closed the door.

Despite the reassurance, I knew I'd be on edge until the phone rang later.

I headed back in to see Tara, and she hadn't moved at all. She was like some empty statue; her eyes were staring blankly into the distance. I felt so much pity towards her, but knew at the same time that she'd hate that; she always wanted to stay strong, not for people to feel sorry for her.

Thinking this, I realised that I _really_ had to take care of her; the news would spread eventually, and soon people would be everywhere apologising to her for something they hadn't even done, and it might just damage her even more. I dreaded to think what would happen.

"You look tired, Tara," I said suddenly, blocking that from my mind. She showed no signs of hearing me. "Do you want to get some sleep?"

She moved her head slightly. I assumed that was a yes.

After helping her upright, we made our way upstairs and I settled her into the spare room. It took a while, but she started to drift off and, as I headed downstairs to lock everything up, I suddenly realised just how much responsibility had been placed on my shoulders. It may have been selfish of me, but I couldn't help thinking it; Tara was in a terrible position and, realistically, I was the only one who cared enough to try to help her.

I stared out of the window into the darkness, suddenly overwhelmed by the twists and turns the day had thrown at me. So much had happened and there was a lot to process; Eric's fears. The beginning of our relationship. Tara.

I knew I wasn't going to sleep much that night.

Rubbing at my sore eyes, I began the journey upstairs. No use feeling sorry for myself.

Once upstairs, I made an extra effort to avoid all the creaky floorboards and sneaked around the house carefully like some kind of ninja. I was just heading into the bathroom when I first heard it, out of the blue.

A loud, painful scream came from Tara's room, sending goosebumps along my skin in an instant.

Almost immediately, my thoughts rushed back to the moment I'd discovered my house had been broken into. I thought of all the times it had felt like I'd been watched, those creepy moments that made me shiver.

Common sense was yelling at me not to, but I made my way over to the source of the sound. I could feel myself trembling, but when I heard sobbing accompanying the noise of fear, I rushed in without another second's consideration.

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><p><strong>I apologise for taking longer than usual; I was just a little disheartened for a while, but then I rediscovered my passion for this story. I hope you feel the same way and that I'm not sounding like some blithering idiot here! That's highly unlikely... but anyway, thanks for reading the update!<strong>


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Fifteen_

Sookie's POV

I fully expected to see a large figure lurking in the shadows, just like in the movies. I'd been stupid and irrational in the way I'd reacted; there was no way to defend Tara and myself, so what would happen if this person attacked? I'd just stormed in during the heat of the moment and now-

It didn't matter... my fears were completely uncalled for.

Tara was alone, sat up in bed crying to herself. I flicked on the light, scanning every corner of the room, but we were alone. I let out a long sigh of relief and slumped down next to her.

I still didn't know what had upset her so much. Besides the obvious, that is.

"Tara, what's wrong, darling?" I asked, holding her close. Once again, her whole body was shaking against mine as the waves of grief rushed over her.

"I m-miss her," she said simply.

So she'd been screaming for her mother.

I could fully understand her pain. Every night after Gran had died, I'd often believed that she was still there. I would cry out for her, wanting her to come and make everything okay again, but then the realisation would hit me and knock the breath out of my lungs.

That still happened sometimes. There were days when I just needed a hug from somebody close.

_I guess I have Eric now_.

With that thought in mind, I spent most of the night looking over Tara, comforting her whenever she awoke from her sleep.

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><p>The following morning, I stared into the fridge and sighed heavily in something close to despair. Apart from a tiny bit of milk, some small pieces of cheese and one egg, there definitely wasn't enough to feed two people. There were only a few slices of bread, too, and the freezer was full of microwaveable meals. Not good for breakfast.<p>

I pressed my head against the cool surface and groaned. I'd have to go out.

It wouldn't be great to take Tara with me... but would she be alright on her own? I didn't particularly want to bother Eric in case it sounded as though I was using him, and the last thing I wanted was to mess up our slowly growing relationship.

Just when I was about to fling myself onto the sofa, there was a sudden hammering on the door. I jumped in surprise but headed over, wondering if it was the man I'd just been thinking about. With a small smile on the face, I prepared to greet him and...

And Sam was standing there.

All of my feelings became tangled as I thought back to when we'd last seen each other. Eric had admitted what had happened between them and I'd been left wondering if Sam was really the person I thought I knew.

I didn't know if the dominant emotion was anger or regret. Had I been too early to judge him, or was he really a horrible person who was so vile to his supposed best friend?

I couldn't manage any words, so just stared at him silently. He looked straight back, his expression unreadable. He seemed a little ragged; his hair was messy, as though he hadn't bothered looking at a mirror. His eyes were also red and tired, and, I might have imagined it, but it seemed as though he was trembling a little.

One word sprung to mind. Alcohol.

"Sookie," he said eventually, and even his voice seemed different. It was as though all the energy had been drained from him and he almost seemed a shadow of who he was before.

Or maybe it was all an act. I didn't know anymore.

"Sookie, what happened to your head?"

I swallowed and stared at the floor. "There was an accident at work."

"Why am I not surprised?" I didn't bother to reply to his disapproving words. "Are you alright?"

"I guess."

There was a long pause and I tried to focus on the sound of some cars in the distance; that would be much easier than facing my former boss and friend. "Sookie, can we talk?"

"It's not the best time," I muttered, avoiding his eyes.

"I heard about Tara. Is she here with you?"

"Yeah."

"How is she?"

"How do you think? Her mother's just died."

I couldn't resist looking at him; my frosty response had clearly taken him aback. Maybe he believed that I'd eventually forgive him, that everything would be forgotten? That thought almost made me even more angry.

"Please can we just talk?" he repeated, stepping forward. "There are things we need to sort out."

"You think it'll be that easy?" I asked. "That we can _sort everything out_ with a quick conversation?"

"You're punishing me for something that happened before we even _met_. It's clear that I've changed."

"Have you, though? Really, _have_ you? It seems as though you're actually changing into somebody I can't recognise."

"What do you mean?"

I scofffed. "You've started drinking more, haven't you? Somebody told me you've barely been at Merlotte's recently, and you're not looking well. You're making bad decisions and... and, though I shouldn't really care, it really hurts seeing it happen to you."

As the words came out, I realised their truth. I cared about Sam and probably wouldn't ever stop. It was stupid, but it was beyond my control.

What that meant for my relationship with Eric, I didn't know.

"I can't help it, Sook. It's my way of coping with everything. I don't think you realise how much you mean to me, and all I want is just to make things right between us."

_How much I mean to him?_ I just about resisted saying 'yeah, but you still fired me easily enough,' and bit down on my tongue to stop the venomous words from crawling out.

"Are you blaming me for the fact that you've turned to alcohol?" I frowned.

"No, of _course_ not. I just want you to give me a chance to try to get things back to how they were before."

"What if I don't want it to?"

He gave me a knowing look. "I think you do want it to. Somewhere deep down."

Damn him. He knew me too well.

"So much has changed, though," I argued. "I'm..." My voice trailed off. _Should I tell him I was with Eric? What would his reaction be?_

"You're what?" he asked. Suddenly, something changed in his eyes as he analysed my hesitancy. He worked it out. "You're with Eric, aren't you?"

I nodded, keeping my head up. It was nothing to be ashamed of and he wasn't going to make me feel that way. "Yes, I am. Is there a problem with that?"

He grimaced and his face completely transformed. The way his eyebrows pulled together made him look bitter and old. "No, of course there's not. I'm glad you're happy."

_Bullshit._ "Wild shot here, but I'm guessing you're not very good at poker?"

"I don't think he's right for you, that's all."

"Why not?"

"There are just better people out there for you."

What was he trying to say? Surely he...

No, we were just friends. Well, we used to be.

But...

"I'll be the judge of that," I managed eventually. "Are you done here? I need to get some food for my best friend whose mother has just passed away. That seems to be a bit more important than this conversation."

That came out more coldly than I'd intended, but his face remained emotionless. "You're leaving her on her own?"

"I don't have any other choice."

"I can watch over her until you get back. Then we can have our chat."

I wanted nothing more than to say no, but logically it made sense. Sighing, I nodded and let him in. Once I'd gathered everything I needed and made myself look respectable, I met him back in the kitchen. "I'll be fifteen minutes. Don't say anything insensitive to her, please."

The last thing I saw was the puzzled look on Sam's face before I headed outside into my car. There was some movement in the bushes as I started the engine, but I quickly dismissed that as animals; my mind was already too preoccupied with thoughts. It didn't matter anymore.

Why did everything have to be so confusing?

With a noise of frustration, I started the engine and tried my hardest to focus on the driving.

* * *

><p>I arrived back a little while later to find Sam alone, standing in exactly the same spot. Had he even <em>looked<em> at Tara? Did he even care or was he using the excuse as a ploy to see me?

Why was I still caring for him when all I seemed to do was doubt him?

"Sam, have you been here _all_ the time?"

He looked at me with a frown. "Of course not. I went upstairs and Tara was still asleep. I didn't want to disturb her so I came back down here."

I found myself believing him, for once. "Okay. I'll have to wake her soon for some breakfast, though." Running my fingers through my hair, I started unpacking everything.

"You look stressed, Sook."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I can't_ imagine_ why."

He let out a long breath. "All I'm saying is you need to take a break, especially after your accident. What happened?"

"Small disagreement with a deranged lunatic."

"Oh." His simple response almost made me smile, but I turned away before he could see. "I'll be here to help," he added.

I found that I just couldn't accept that he was being truly sincere. I was suspicious of him and wondered if he had an ulterior motive. "Why are you suddenly offering help after all this time? You've been neglecting me."

"Because I've finally realised that I've been a jerk."

It seemed appropriate to give him a round of applause. "And you want to change?"

"Exactly."

"Sam, I just..."

Once again, there was a knock at the door, cutting off my trail of thought. I sighed in frustration, expecting somebody coming to visit Tara. Maybe word had travelled? Had Sam said something? I had no idea.

I was wrong in my expectations once again. It was Eric.

_Oh crap._

He greeted me with a warm smile, but I couldn't help feeling strangely guilty. I'd done nothing wrong, but it just felt bad having Sam in the house. I had a horrible feeling it wasn't going to go well.

"Hi," I managed. "This is a... nice surprise."

He bent down to kiss me and, before I could really return the gesture, he pulled away. His blue eyes had drifted to the left and onto Sam. Disapproval took over his face, ruining the somehow soft expression that was there when he'd been with me.

"What's he doing here?"

"He was looking after Tara while I got some food. I-"

"You could have asked me to do that."

"I didn't want to bother you," I replied honestly. "I thought you'd be busy with the bar."

He stared at me, looking oddly hurt. I hated it. "I wouldn't have minded."

"Eric, I-"

"I came over to apologise," Sam added, stepping closer. I could feel Eric's body tense up and, when I tried to reach his hand, he barely responded. "There were things I needed to say."

"Sam, don't you dare go making this worse," I warned.

"Things you needed to say?" Eric asked. "And what was that?" He turned to me. "I thought you would have heard enough at the hospital."

"Eric, this wasn't _my_ choice. And Sam's just apologised, that's all."

He didn't believe me; I could just tell from his expression. I could feel all the hope that had grown before suddenly draining away. I also felt anger towards Sam for starting to ruin what Eric and I had spent so long building up.

"That's not strictly true, is it Sookie?" Sam said, raising his eyebrows. "There's something else I also needed to say."

"Sam, please can you just leave now?" I asked, hating the tone his voice had adopted. He sounded spiteful and I found myself despising the person he turned into around Eric. It just reinforced my reluctancy to get closer to him again that I'd experienced earlier. I'd been right and I needed to get things back on track with Eric.

He meant more to me. If I meant that I had to leave Sam behind, then I was willing to do it.

"Sookie, there's something you really need to know."

I glanced at Eric for a brief moment and the anger on his face was almost indescribable. I felt the same; somebody who I'd once trusted had proved to be somebody vile. Maybe I'd not noticed it before, or maybe I knew deep down and had been blocking it out? Thinking back, there were times when Sam had been rude to people...

But all the times that he'd let me confide in him, all those late night chats we'd had... they kept changing my opinion, tainting it. We'd had some good times together...

"Please, go," I whispered, fearing the worst.

"No, I need to let you know that..."

"Please, don-"

"_That, _Sookie, I fucking love you."

* * *

><p><strong>Oh dear.<strong>

**I hope you're still here! I've probably made you hate this version of Sam even more now... oops. But thank you for reading anyway, I do appreciate it, as ever.**


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Sixteen_

Sookie's POV

"Sam, I think it's b-best if you leave."

"That's a fucking understatement," Eric hissed, and the venom dripping from each word sent a chill over my skin. He was practically spitting out the syllables.

My heart began to thud harder with anxiety. He needed to see that I hadn't provoked this reaction; I hadn't deliberately led Sam on, I hadn't said anything provoking to him, and I tried hopelessly to make him see this.

He avoided my desperate eyes, crushing my small flicker of hope instantly.

Sam still hadn't moved. I didn't look at his face, just at his feet. The anger I felt towards him was staggering. "Just _go_!" I yelled, pulling the door open with as much force as I could manage. He didn't hesitate this time, just stepped out while cursing wildly under his breath. As soon as he was outside, I locked him out, praying I'd never have to see him again.

How had things changed so drastically? Had I really been so foolish?

Eric and I stood there silently, the only sound being our rushed breathing. I didn't want to look up at him again because of fear of what I'd see. I truly believed that it was over and that Sam had acted intentionally to make that happen.

I was really starting to hate him.

We hadn't said anything to each other for what felt like a very long time and I eventually glanced at Eric tentatively. He was staring at me that time, looking oddly expressionless.

Well, at least he wasn't disgusted, or something along those lines.

His blue eyes barely blinked. I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, to know how I could make things better.

"Do you believe me?" I eventually managed, my voice croaking. His eyebrows pulled together.

He avoided my question, but spoke. "Shall we sit down somewhere?"

That was a good sign, I thought. He wasn't rushing out without an explanation, so I nodded enthusiastically, taking a deep breath as he headed in first by himself. I felt sick to the stomach, like this was a significant moment, and I could barely grasp how much the situation had changed in less than twenty four hours.

My head was throbbing even more than usual, but I held off on the painkillers. I didn't want my brain to be foggy; it needed to be crystal clear.

Eventually, I joined Eric and waited for him to speak first.

"I think I do believe you, Sookie."

"You _think_?"

"I know you've been friends with him before but..." He trailed off, sighing. "No, I do believe you. I do. I can see it in your face."

Relief crashed over me in a wave, but I kept silent out of fear that I had reacted too quickly. "Thank goodness."

"I just find it hard to grasp why you're still wasting your time on him."

"He won't take up another second," I said honestly. "Really, Eric, tonight has made me realise so much. I had doubts about him before, but him doing that just as you turned up was just... just so _awful_. It's made me see that I've been blinded before. I think... he charmed me somehow, but you've helped me see the truth."

The smallest of smiles flickered on his lips. "I'm glad." Suddenly, he moved closer and gripped my hand. His touch was warm and, as usual, made my own skin somehow tingle.

"I thought it was over between us," I admitted, staring down at my feet.

"What?" he asked, full of what sounded like disbelief. "Did you really think I'd throw all this away just because of something _he_ said?" I still didn't look up, feeling the worry from before settling in my stomach. It was a surprise to feel his hands suddenly cupping my face, moving my eyes to his. "Sookie, you're the most precious thing to me. You're all that matters."

I could feel a strange tightness in my throat as his words registered. Nobody had said something so beautiful to me, ever. I'd never felt truly needed by anybody until that moment.

"Thank you," I whispered, leaning in to kiss him. He pressed against me and it felt more important than before, like we had to prove what we meant to one another.

Eric certainly showed me.

He moved to sit next to me on the same couch, never breaking the kiss along the way. His hands ran through my hair and somehow managed to massage my head at the same time, leaving me with a feeling of dazed bliss. My own traced the shape of his back, the feeling of his neck and finally his hair, still messy from outside.

I moaned against his lips involuntarily and he pulled apart, giving me a sly grin. I couldn't help huffing at him jokily. "What?"

"I'm pleased to witness the effect I have on you," he admitted happily, gently forcing me so that I was lying horizontal on the couch. The kissing returned, this time more insistent, and I found it difficult to breathe. Every small touch, even if it was just a tiny brush, seemed to set my skin on fire; the reaction he caused was phenomenal. I didn't want it to stop.

But, naturally, it did.

"Sook... oh. Oh."

We pulled apart at lightning speed at the sound of Tara's voice in the doorway. It was such an inappropriate way to act under the circumstances and I felt a flood of shame; momentarily, I'd forgotten that she was there with us.

"Tara, shit, I'm so sorry!"

A very small smile appeared on her lips. "Don't worry. I just fancied a bite to eat."

Scrambling up from the sofa, I rushed over to the kitchen, feeling incredibly flustered. "Uh, okay, there's some stuff here that I just bought..." I fiddled around, trying to make a decent breakfast, but I could feel her staring at me.

"If he makes you happy, Sook, don't be ashamed," she said quietly, seemingly oddly upbeat under the circumstances. From what I remembered, though, the mood changes happened quite often, and soon she'd be crying again.

But it was wonderful to see a small ray of light back in her eyes. "Thank you. Are you...?" I trailed off, unable to finish. Okay? Alright? Those didn't seem the right words.

"Hmm," she merely replied, grabbing some food. That said it all. "Thanks, Sook. For everything."

"No problem," I murmured, but she was out of the door again. Eric popped his head through and joined me. "God, Eric, that just... I want to pretend that didn't happen."

"Really?" he asked, feigning offence.

"You know what I mean. Tara's going through a tough time..."

"Hmm. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to happen."

"Understatement."

"But you've got a lot on, Sookie," he said, out of the blue. The random topic made me frown. "With everything you've had to deal with lately, you need some time off."

"I am having some time off. I'm not in work anymore, remember?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I want to take you out to dinner."

"You... but what about Tara?"

"She's a grown woman. She can take care of herself, I'm sure. And, like I said, you need some time off, and I think a lovely dinner with brilliant company will do you good. You need to take your mind off everything."

He was right... "But I can't just say to her that I'm leaving her to go out on a date."

"I don't see why not. I'm sure she'll understand."

"But..."

"Sookie, normally I like a touch of stubborn-ness, but you need to agree before I force you to."

"Force me?" I repeated, raising my eyebrows playfully. He smirked.

"Is that a yes?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Good. What time is suitable for you?"

"Um... eight? But what about your bar? You're never there."

"I am. I'm just letting Pam do most of the work. She enjoys it anyway. One of the many pleasures of being your own boss, y'see."

"Sneaky."

He smiled again. "I'll be here at eight to pick you up then."

"Alright. I'm looking forward to it." And the truth is that I actually was; it was probably going to be our first real date, and I felt what I guessed were butterflies of excitement and fear.

I just had to tell Tara first.

* * *

><p>"Sookie, why the hell would I stop you going?"<p>

I stared at her as she lay down in bed, surrounded by food. "I just felt I had to clear it with you first."

She shook her head. "Sook, I'm a _guest_ at your house. I'm incredibly grateful for how wonderful you're being to me. I'm not gonna stop you going on a frickin' date."

I smiled. "Thank you. But please just... just call me if you have any problems and I'll be straight here."

"I'm doing okay."

I suspected that was a lie but nodded anyway. "Okay."

Straight after, I headed into my own room and opened the wardrobe with a sigh. I had only three dresses and didn't know which would be most suitable. My favourite was an emerald colour, but it showed quite a bit of cleavage; would that be right on a first date, or would it drive Eric wild? Hmm.

The other two were more safe, but a bit tight. I didn't want to dwell too much about my weight and quickly thought _stuff it_, _I'm going for the first choice_.

It was nice to have something else to occupy my thoughts, anyway. I was desperately trying to avoid thoughts of Sam.

Did he really feel that way? Or was he lying just to anger Eric?

No, it didn't matter anymore. He was out of my life.

I searched through my jewellery, picking out some ear-rings and a necklace. I didn't want to over-do it.

Finally, I found some black high-heels and laid everything out ready. It was only early in the afternoon, but I felt reassured then that my outfit was completely sorted out for later.

I had a few hours to kill and headed downstairs, determined to do some cleaning. I was becoming a little more mobile after the accident and enjoyed dusting down the surfaces; it was oddly therapeutic.

I couldn't help feeling restless, though, and decided to head into the bathroom to do some further preparation for the evening. It would be something that'd take up my full attention, and I gratefully enjoyed the distraction all the way from showering thoroughly to carefully painting my toenails.

* * *

><p>At eight on the dot, there was a knock on the door.<p>

Cursing in surprise, I darted for the nearest mirror and smoothed down my dress for what had to be the hundredth time. I turned around, checking my hair and back, but still felt nervous when it came to facing Eric. To make myself feel better, I put on my coat and took a shaky breath. He could see the full thing in the restaurant anyway.

When I finally answered, he met me with a grin, but I just stared at him. He looked so handsome. So handsome that I felt my stomach turn light.

He was wearing a dark purple shirt underneath a black suit and he somehow managed to look like a model of some kind. I even caught a glimpse of some braces. His skin glowed against the fabric and his bright eyes landed on mine.

"You look beautiful... from what I can see," he said eventually. "Especially your hair. But... why the big coat?"

"I... uh... I felt cold."

"Oh. Not wearing much, are you?" he asked. I felt my cheeks flood with heat. At the same time, it gave me a kind of thrill.

"You'll see."

Grinning, he reached out a hand which I grasped firmly. After calling goodbye to Tara, he led me to his car and opened the door like a gentleman. I had to maneuver myself carefully but eventually settled inside, exhaling loudly. It was going to be okay, I didn't know why I was so nervous.

Eric seemed to notice that. "Sookie, is something wrong?"

"Nerves," I said simply.

"You've been through much worse than this. Just try to enjoy yourself."

He was right. I was being silly. Feeling better, I smiled. I was on a date with an exceptionally good looking man who I really felt I had a connection with. Why was I worrying?

Eric noticed my change in mood and grinned, looking even more dashing. "That's better."

I almost felt like laughing when he pulled off down the drive. I had a feeling it was going to be one of the better nights of my life.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Seventeen_

Sookie's POV

Eric offered his hand and helped me out of his car, much to my pleasure and surprise. We'd been travelling for quite some time, but it wasn't unpleasant in any way. Throughout the journey, the conversation had flowed easily, ranging from our favourite music to what food we felt like ordering. Everything felt so natural, and for once I was starting to believe in the illusion that I was going to have a normal evening. I made the extra effort to savour the experience of being ordinary.

In front of us stood the restaurant; it was unfamiliar to me, considering how far away we were, but I trusted Eric and his instincts. Apparently he'd been there many times before and highly recommended it.

From the outside, it looked incredibly expensive; that was the only word I could think of. Everything seemed to be new and shining, and I was internally grateful for choosing the right dress to wear; we wouldn't look out of place.

Once inside, I stared around in awe. It somehow managed to look homely, with its dark colours and scattered lights giving the place a warm glow in every corner. It wasn't too busy; a few couples were scattered here and there, so we were quickly able to get a table straight by the window. A waiter poured us a glass of red wine and it tasted exquisite, heating up my throat and body as it travelled downwards.

"So," Eric said eventually, after we'd ordered, "what do you think?"

"It's wonderful," I replied honestly, shaking my head. "It really is."

He looked pleased. "Good. The food's impressive too, I can assure you."

"It's a good thing I trust you," I smiled, reaching across the table to take his hands. His thumb absently traced circles on my skin as he looked back at me.

"It is. And our first real date needs to be special."

I stared at his blue eyes, wondering how on earth I'd managed to sustain his interest. The attraction truly baffled me because, in my eyes, he was definitely _way_ out of my league. He must have patience to put up with everything going on around me and I clutched his fingers tighter, feeling a warm glow. This was something that I was going to make an effort not to spoil.

"That was a very intense look," he commented, his voice low amongst the others that surrounded us. "Thinking?"

"Yeah. I was just wondering what you possibly see in me."

"A beautiful lady with an attitude to be jealous of." My foot connected with his under the table and he grimaced, chuckling too. "Hey, I meant it in a good way. I think it's wonderful that you speak your mind, even if sometimes it gets you into trouble."

"Sometimes," I muttered wryly. "But I still-"

"Sookie," he said, cutting off my words. "Please just accept the fact that I am madly attracted to you. Is that not enough?"

I smiled at him a little shyly, cursing myself for over-thinking as usual. "Okay. Sorry."

"Anyway, I'd like to get to know your interests," he told me, leaning forwards. "What do you enjoy doing?"

I had to think for a moment. "Watching TV?"

He tilted his head at the answer. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

"I'm kind of a lazy, boring person," I shrugged. "I guess I like sunbathing."

A smirk crept onto his lips. "Right. Maybe I can watch you doing that sometime."

I grinned back. "Maybe. What do you like doing?"

He blew out a long breath. "I'm gonna admit to you now that I'm partial to a game of poker, but I do try to limit myself to once a month."

"Who do you play with?"

"Usually Pam and some of her friends. Even though they're all women, they're still..." He paused, searching for a word. "Rather masculine."

I smiled. Did that mean he didn't have any close friends, like me? I didn't know why that mattered, but it made me feel better that there was somebody else in my type of situation.

Or was that being selfish?

Over-thinking again.

"Anything else?" I prompted. "Anything that doesn't involve losing money?"

"Hey, don't you start," he teased. "Your interests aren't particularly healthy either; sunbathing can be very bad for you."

"It's in moderation," I said with a sweep of my free hand. "But it's not that bad. I look dull without a nice glow."

"I doubt that. But to answer your original question... I also enjoy reading a good book, playing basketball..."

"Being so big probably comes in handy," I commented.

"Oh Sookie, believe me, I'm big in every department."

That comment was almost rewarded by a face full of red wine that I just about managed to stop escaping from my lips. His eyes twinkled playfully as he stared back, waiting for my response.

"Okay," was all I could manage. I sounded choked.

We were interrupted by the convenient arrival of our food and it smelt divine; I'd ordered spaghetti bolognese, plainly because I was craving it at the time, but Eric's dish seemed more elaborate. It was a mixture of seafood, and the appreciative moans he made whenever he took a mouthful seemed to indicate that he was impressed.

"This is wonderful," I said when I was left with half a plateful. "How's yours?"

"Mmm."

"A detailed answer."

We were soon finished and I felt blissfully full. It had been a long time since I'd been treated to such a lovely meal (I often opted for quick and easy solutions, like takeaways) and forgetting everything for just the one night had made a lazy smile creep onto my face. Eric, noticing this, smiled back over at me.

"I'm glad to see you looking genuinely happy for once. I think you really needed tonight."

"I agree. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure. Do you want anything for dessert?"

I did... but I felt like I'd explode if I tried to force it down. "It'd probably be best to leave it. Thank you, anyway."

"Alright." He leaned forward, looking at me as though he was examining my face once again. "Do you need another drink?"

"I'm happy enough sitting here talking to you."

My words seemed to satisfy him, for he smiled widely. "Good. What's your favourite colour?"

I frowned at him and laughed. "Excuse me?"

"I want to know as much about you as possible. And I say that in a way that is not intended to sound creepy."

"Blue," I answered, much to his pleasure. I'd always liked the colour, but seeing the shade of Eric's eyes had increased my admiration. "You?"

"At the moment, emerald." His gaze lingered on my dress for so long that I started to feel uncomfortable. I wasn't used to people scruntinising me so closely. "I may have said this before, but you really do look beautiful. That dress suits you perfectly."

I felt my cheeks flood with heat. I'd been unsure about the choice of dress before but, knowing he approved, I could relax a little. "Thank you."

"I don't think you believe me though, do you?" he asked. I looked at him in alarm; he was sort of right. Normally I was quite confident with my body, but with all that had happened recently, my spirits had definitely dipped, and my self esteem had been affected too.

"Maybe."

"One day, sometime soon, I will make you realise how beautiful you are to me."

I swallowed, suddenly feeling my stomach lighten. "I-I'll look forward to it."

The conversation continued with similar questions until Eric eventually stopped, looking at me carefully. "You're probably fed up of these now. Shall we maybe call it a night?"

I was initially disappointed, but remembered we still had the ride home together. "I'm not fed up. I do feel like I know you better."

"As do I."

"But I'd be happy going. Not that I haven't had a lovely time, it's just Tara..."

He nodded. "I understand." His eyes moved to the right. "Can we have the bill please?"

* * *

><p>The journey home passed quicker than I would have liked, but we stepped outside together as Eric walked me to the door, his arm wrapped around my shoulders.<p>

"Good time?" he asked, turning around to face me as we stood in the doorway.

"It's been the best night I've had in a long time," I smiled, reaching up to press my lips against his again. His hands cupped the back of my head and pulled me closer, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. I thought of nothing but the man giving me his full attention and completely lost myself in the moment.

I didn't even know how long we'd been together, but I became aware of a rustling noise behind me out of the blue, and turned rigid.

Eric, noticing this, pulled away. "What's wrong?" he murmured.

"I heard something," I whispered back, my throat suddenly dry. "It might have just been..."

Before I could finish, there was a very loud sound in the bushes, as though somebody, or some_thing_, had fallen over. Just as that registered, Eric rushed off and I followed, not thinking about the consequences. It could have been an animal, but my instincts told me that wasn't the case.

Images of my burgled house kept flickering through my mind as I joined Eric. The light coming from the house gave little illumination and what happened next was just a crazy blur.

One minute Eric was glancing at me tentatively, the next he was diving into the bush and grabbing somebody. My heart thumped erratically at the fear that he'd get hurt; my thoughts turned to sharp knives and blood. I was just about to shout at him when he emerged, pulling out a familiar face. I squinted my eyes in the darkness as Eric held the man back and, when I recognised the person, my eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Hoyt? Hoyt Fortenberry?"

He grunted and protested against Eric's grip, but there was no way he could escape. Eric looked at me in confusion. "You know him?"

"Yeah," I frowned, wondering what the hell was going on.

Out of the blue, something occured to me. I thought back to the many times I'd caught Hoyt giving me a strange look; I recalled him almost looking a mixture of guilty and full of anger and-

I felt the shiver travel along my spine. I met Hoyt's dark eyes and suddenly knew, even though I didn't want to believe it. "It was you. You broke into my house, didn't you?"

He remained silent and, growing impatient, Eric shook him forcefully. "Answer her!"

Hoyt grimaced, his breathing suddenly growing frantic. "I needed to, it was the only thing left that I could do!"

The shock made me sway on my knees. Somebody I knew had caused me so much _pain_. It wouldn't have hurt so much if it was a complete stranger, but this felt like a stab in the chest.

After a few moments of silence, I took a deep breath. "Why?" My voice was shaking as I stepped closer. "Why did you do it?"

"I had to, I-"

"Why?" I yelled, all the anger I'd been suppressing for such a long time saturating the one word. "Why the _hell_ did you do it?"

"Because it was the only way I could save him!"

The hurt at being deceived turned into frustration. His vague comments were pissing me off. "Save _who_?"

His words left me feeling numb. "Jason! That's who. Jason!"


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**The Hardest Part**

_Chapter Eighteen_

Sookie's POV

Everything was happening too quickly. I could feel myself swaying from side to side and leaned back against the side of the house, trying to process what was going on.

"I'll explain everything, Sookie," Hoyt suddenly continued, still squirming under Eric's firm hand. I suspected that he was being gripped even harder after what he'd said, but that didn't bother me at all. "Just give me a chance."

I didn't even reply, so he took that as an opportunity.

"I know that Jason's innocent," he said, causing an ache in my chest when he mentioned my brother's name so easily. "I've been trying to prove it for months."

I looked at him in disbelief. "There was evidence that..." My words trailed off. Speaking about that always brought back those horrible memories that I would have rather forgotten.

"No, I... I refuse to believe it!" he protested, his voice suddenly growing louder. "He didn't kill Lafayette. He _didn't_!"

"Please, just... d-don't."

He carried on, completely oblivious to my pleading. "I was growing desperate when I broke into your house. I tried desperately to find something, _anything_, that would show he was innocent. I don't know what was going through my mind, I just needed to find some tiny thing that would prove he didn't do it. But... there wasn't anything. Nothing at all."

"And you didn't think how much that would hurt me?" I said, edging closer towards him. "Did you not think that I would be on edge for weeks, thinking that there was somebody out there spying on me? Every noise made me panic, Hoyt!"

I could feel hot tears prickling at the edges of my eyes, but he seemed unaffected. "I had to do something..."

"You're not even sorry," I muttered, shaking my head slowly. "There's no remorse at all."

Eric suddenly spoke. I'd almost forgotten about his presence. "Why are you so concerned about Jason?" There was anger in his voice, cutting through the darkness. "This seems like a fucking extreme reaction."

"They were friends," I murmured, watching how Hoyt's eyes fell to the floor. There was something in his expression, something that...

Suddenly, it clicked. My eyebrows pulled together. "Wait... were you _more_ than friends?"

He laughed, almost bitterly. "Are you kidding me? Jason was busy screwing any woman with a pulse, he didn't see me as anything more than a drinking buddy."

"But... you wanted him to," I said tentatively; the pieces were clicking together. "You..."

"Yes, well done," he grunted. "Go on and mock me."

Hoyt had feelings for my brother, so he'd desperately raided my house to find something to prove his innocence, even though there was no guarantee he'd do so and that there was no way Jason felt the same way anyway.

I stared at him in surprise. It was the last thing I'd expected. "It still doesn't excuse your actions. I should call the police."

He looked at me with wide eyes and I just sighed. "Do you have any reason why you think he's innocent? Or is it just blind hope that's been deluding you? Be honest, please."

It was a long time before he answered. "No. There's no real reason."

Even though I'd suspected it all along, it was still crushing to have the hopes that I'd ashamedly raised being destroyed once again. "Right. If you ever disturb me like this again, I won't hesitate doing something about it next time."

I turned away and headed inside before he could say anything else that would break my heart and, after hearing a strange grunt of pain, Eric soon followed, his arms around me. "Sookie, I'm s-"

"Don't, you've nothing to apologise for."

"I just don't like seeing you being hurt like this. You don't deserve it."

"Somebody must think I do," I replied tiredly. I could barely focus on the words that were coming out of my mouth; I felt almost detached from my body. "I-"

"I'll help you inside," he said. Perhaps he could see that I was shaken up.

I felt sick to the stomach.

The warm air clung my skin as we headed into the lounge. It suddenly felt hot and sticky, and I collapsed onto the sofa, staring ahead at nothing in particular. I could feel Eric's presence by my side.

"Will you be alright tonight?"

I think I managed to make my head move up and down. Suddenly, I remembered what else had happened this evening and looked up to meet his eyes. "Thank you again for the meal. I enjoyed it."

He smiled briefly. "Just a shame it had to be spoiled."

"Hmm."

I felt his lips on my forehead. "Call me if you need to, no matter what time."

"Thank you, Eric."

The sound of the door closing indicated that he'd left. I vaguely heard his car starting up and the noise eventually faded into the distance.

That's when I started to cry.

It all became too much. The stress of worrying all those weeks and the truth of who had been causing it all boiled over, sending frantic tears down my cheeks. I was still in disbelief, but it was starting to sink in; somebody I had known and considered to be a good person had broken into my house. He'd been dishonest and selfish and...

I just couldn't face thinking about it. I needed a distraction.

Conveniently, there was a voice behind me. "Hey, Sook... what's wrong?"

I initally jumped, but quickly realised that it was Tara. She hurried over, taking in what I guessed was my stained face. "Hey, what's happened? Has that man you were seeing messed you about? If he has I'll-"

"No. I f-found out who broke into the house." I swallowed, feeling my raw throat ache. "It was H-Hoyt."

"_Hoyt_?" she replied in disbelief. "Hoyt Fortenberry? The quiet one?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"But... why?"

I explained to her everything that had happened and her mouth dropped open into a little o shape. "That's messed up. I never had any idea." Seeing my distress, she wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders and I rested my head on her chest. The role reversal had happened quickly, and I suddenly wondered how she was coping.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked, swivelling to meet her eyes.

"I'm okay. Don't you worry about me for now, focus on yourself girl. At least you don't have to worry anymore about who it was."

That was a tiny consolation, but I remained quiet. She was trying her best, bless her.

"Maybe we should put a movie on," she suggested after a while. "Something to distract us."

"That sounds perfect," I sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

* * *

><p>Eric didn't visit the following day and I assumed that he was trying to give me some space so that I could process what had happened. I couldn't see myself ever fully accepting it and truly comprehending Hoyt's extreme actions, but then again I never thought I'd recover from what happened with my brother.<p>

I haven't completely, but it's got better.

The hours passed by slowly and, by the time the afternoon crept around, I began to feel useless and pathetic for moping around the house. Feeling sorry for myself wasn't going to help and I had a sudden urge to see Eric, to show him that I was willing to make the effort too, so I headed outside and started up my car without another thought.

_A distraction would be good, anyway_, I told myself.

When I reached Northman's, I carefully popped my head through the door and saw Pam behind the bar. She hadn't noticed me, but I kept thinking back to what happened with Debbie and-

"Sookie!" a voice called suddenly, pulling me out of that memory. I looked up to see her heading towards me, and I certainly wasn't expecting the tight hug that she enveloped me in. It took my breath away but felt good nonetheless; it was nice to know she cared.

"It feels like a lifetime since I've seen you. I heard there's been a lot of bullshit that you've been through and, Sookie, I can't tell you how much I want to rip off that Hoyt's di-"

"Pam, Pam, stop right there," I said, holding back a small laugh. "I don't want the mental image."

She smirked. "Take a seat. I'll get you a drink."

"Oh, I'm fi-"

"After what you've been through, you deserve a drink." Her tone told me there was no arguing and I sighed, sitting at the bar. "Only a small one. I'm driving."

"Where's Eric?" I asked after a while. She sat down by my side, her expression unreadable.

"Oh, he's just sorting out some orders. I'm sure he'll be back here soon, though, pleased to see you as ever." She paused, looking at me intently for a long moment. Her eyes drifted across my face, giving the impression that she was somehow scanning me. My furrowed eyebrows must have showed my discomfort for she laughed, taking a long sip of her drink.

"Why were you looking at me like that? I feel like some kind of subject of an experiment."

"I was just admiring the view," she said with an innocent shrug. "I approve of how happy you've made Eric. Sure, you've caused him some stress along the way, but hell, he's the happiest I've seen him in ages."

That gave me a strange feeling in my stomach. It was pleasant, distracting me. "Oh. Good. I feel very... close to him," I admitted, the words flowing before I could stop them. "He's told me a lot about himself."

She merely smiled. "It's about freaking time. He-"

"Why do I sense that I'm being talked about?"

Eric's voice joined the conversation from behind us and I jumped in surprise. Before I could say anything, he headed towards my side, placing a cold kiss on my forehead. His lips somehow made my skin tingle. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I wanted to see you," I replied honestly.

His eyes gave nothing away, but his lips quirked upwards. "Good."

"Sorted everything out?" I asked. He replied with a blank look on his face, but there was also a hint of something else there... was it panic?

A strange light feeling crept across my chest.

"With the order?" I prompted. "Pam told me you had order some things..."

"Oh, that. Yes, of course."

Perhaps knowing him so well came with a downside, because I could somehow tell that he wasn't being entirely truthful. My eyes followed him as he sat behind the bar and even his body language gave me the impression that he had something to hide.

Pam knew. She stood up, excusing herself for some reason that I didn't hear, and suddenly we were alone in the quiet bar, waiting for the other to speak.

I wanted him to admit whatever it was he was lying about. I was going to see if he was willing to do it.

I met his eyes after what felt like an incredibly long time and suddenly he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, Sookie, you're not going to be happy, but I just had to do_ something_."

I felt sick, but waited for him to continue.

"I couldn't let him get away with doing what he did. The amount of pain that he caused you was unacceptable! I couldn't just sit around knowing that he wasn't going to be punished for causing you so much anguish!"

"What did you do, Eric?" I said, barely whispering the words.

He didn't reply.

"What did you_ do_?"

"I hit him."

I suddenly noticed his red knuckles.

I swallowed heavily. It would be hypocritical of me to say that I didn't approve of violence considering my encounter with Arlene so long ago, but it still left me feeling disappointed. What hurt was that Eric had gone against what I'd wanted; I'd wished that Hoyt would leave me alone and move on, but Eric had actively made that worse by hurting him.

I'd been quiet for a long time, so he spoke again. "He wasn't seriously hurt, I just wanted to show him how much I-"

"Eric, I didn't want you to do that."

He made a noise that sounded like exasperation. "Sookie, you were just going to let him get away with it! I-"

"No, Eric, I didn't want to make any extra fuss! He's in enough pain over J... over Jason, that's enough!"

"But you were so upset over it, it seemed like the right thing to do!"

"No! I've learnt that violence isn't the answer, Eric. I really think you've acted foolishly."

I stood up, trying to keep myself together. It wouldn't be good to crumble in front of him. Maybe after time I'd forgive him, but at that moment I just wanted to get away. "Goodbye, Eric."

"Sookie, I'm sorry, I realise that-"

I'd left the room before he could finish. What I needed was to go back home, the place that had just earlier felt so hostile, and to have a good cry in my bedroom. There were so many feelings inside, mostly conflicting ones, and I had to relieve them. Somehow.

It was a struggle to drive back home without any accidents.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi! Hope you all had a lovely Christmas!<strong>

**You may be mad about what happened at the end (I'm certainly putting Sookie through a lot!) but couples have disagreements! I hope you enjoyed the update, though, as ever.**


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